They are all dead, every last one of them. It seems such a waste, and it makes me wonder about the futility of life. I don't know what took them, whether it was birds or mammals, but it is irrelevant what it was: they are no more. I know that in them dying, another life will have the opportunity to live on, and that is the way of nature, but I am still deeply saddened that their stay on this earth was so short. They will live on in a few photos, photos that weren't even good, and they will live on in my memory, those little whirling dervishes.
