I'm trying to find one image from the set I took on my way home of a dead pigeon suitable to post here. Hang on,



ok, it's too dark but it's something. I'm still annoyed because I took some better versions of this when there was more light but somehow in RAW format and they seem to have disappeared upon arriving home. Bugger.

Through my own grief I feel like I have a right to this bird and its dignity in death, absurd as that is. When I found it and was taking photos I stood in the street, defiantly standing against all the on-coming cars. What is it about death that makes us tigers? It was a lovely Easter. The face on this bird is so tranquil and pleasant, more pleasant than a pigeon's face might be when living I think.