3.24.17 All the time

     All the time we have possum, who make themselves known come winter, when they must come to the compost for food. They are always adolescent, and sometimes I put bits of dogpellets out front in the frigid weather. They mutter round the birdseed table at night, grabbing up the mice that venture out for midnight meals. 
     They are known to live a maximum of two years in the wild, due mostly to human's cars, after that, due to predators like Coyote or fishers. So ours here appear and then invariably are killed by car, which is what happened a few days ago to my little silver furred adolescent.
     I pulled out to drive to town, and caught sight of their still little body . So I put on my flashers, despite the curve and steep hill out by my front drive, and while many cars on both sides waited , I lifted them by the tail off to the roadside, and said a small goodbye.
     Later that day, Kevin caught sight of an adolescent Eagle, clearly hungered by winter, having a meal.
     The next day, a beautiful russet brown adolescent Turkey Vulture cautiously perched on a limb above the possum. Then, lured by hunger, landed and fed for a few hours.
     I was reminded of humans sharing our eyes and livers and hearts after death, and each time I passed by, I kept my distance so the young hungry ones could feed upon the downed young one.
     The next day, possibly because days and nights had been sufficiently cold , a young hawk was out, standing over the remaining carcass, carefully deciding to feed, despite the occasional car whizzing past very close.
     So they remained for over two hours, beautiful buffed young self, and as I came and went, I was touched that, if the possum was to be hit, how beautiful that other ones lived as a result.