Faces of Death
As Marie and I were driving out of Mount Diablo State Park yesterday we came close - really close - to hitting a squirrel that darted into the road. It was a little jarring, but not half as jarring as what happened a mile later when a different squirrel darted into the road and done got run over by a bicycle. We were about 20 yards back and had a perfect view of the whole gruesome episode:
The squirrel runs into the road, the poor woman swerves her bike to get out of the way, but to no avail. She screamed and almost wiped out. The little guy fared much worse, and was thrown three feet in the air, landing on its back, four stiff legs pointed upwards.
I won't pretend to understand how squirrel culture copes with issues of mortality, but I doubt that this was an honorable way to die.