A
barn owl, dead, lay haphazardly; its beautiful silent wings beating
no more.
Three
weeks ago, my husband, a friend and I happened to drive by a truly
horrific sight. A woman in a cycle helmet was giving CPR to a road
victim, unfortunately to no avail. The lady who lost her life that
day was walking her dog, it pulled her into the road and a vehicle
struck her. I was upset for days by what I saw, even more so when I
realised that I knew the woman we'd seen performing CPR. But my
distress was nothing compared to the deep grief of the family who
lost a loved one.
We
grieve for people killed on the roads, but we accept the carnage as
an unavoidable consequence of our preference for a means of transport
that gives some of us convenience, even as it ends it for others.
Whilst
in Scotland last week, a red grouse flew into the grille of our hired
motorhome. There was nothing we could do to avoid it, other than not
go there, nor hire that killing machine. How many non-human creatures
lose their lives on our roads each day? Who amongst us can say they
have never been a killer?
I
shall mourn the barn owl I visited by the roadside today, because
no-one else will.
 |
| I am sparing you the bloody bits |
