Time passes, and the soft parts fall away, but the most resilient parts linger.
I saw this guy wash up on the shore last fall. The vultures and the crabs made quick work of his remains. It happened on the cusp of hunting season, so a bad shot may have wounded him, or it may have been simply old age that took him down.
As time passed, I noticed his impressive antlers at low tides. Partially submerged and only accessible by kayak, I never managed to take a closer look. Today seemed to present an opportunity.
I set out with Doogie on my kayak and paddled over. To my surprise, the skull was completely intact. Discolored and marred with algae, but quite impressive.
It’s an interesting ecosystem on the creek. I have spooked deer in the marsh and seen them swim across the creek to the other side. It’s not a short swim. There are foxes and muskrats, and I’ve even seen a river otter sunning on the dock.
The birds are the real diversity, and they come and go in seasonal waves.
Amidst all of this, I think about my place in it. An observer who is curious and constantly thankful for the wonders God unfurls every day.
This skull is a testimony to a life lived and consumed. It may need to occupy a prominent place as a reminder to live well, and hope that something resilient is left behind.
