In the midst of life, we are in death.......... It is the spectre that creeps in the space between consciousness; unfelt by all but those whose life has been coloured by its still, soft touch. It is the darkening shadow in the weary eye of we who have danced briefly in its caress, returning home wiser, more cautious, to live another day.
It reveals itself in small moments, a stark reminder of our own fragile mortality.
A dead fox lies beside the carriageway; a splash of dried blood marking his demise. On the verge, a lone magpie waits to feast upon the carcass, hopping to and fro, wary of the rumbling trucks passing by.
On the corner by a busy junction, a white bike hangs suspended high upon the railings; its frame interwoven with flowers wilting in the morning sun. A smile from a gently placed photo amplifies the sense of loss. It is but a fleeting glimpse; yet an image forever to remain.
Who will mourn the fox, whose body now cooled lies slowly decomposing, ripening ready to be carried off by carrion crows; or is the very fact its death does not go unnoticed, remembrance enough.