Not Sure What to Name This Post.

Last week I was walking down the sidewalk and saw a crow hobbling across the street. He was missing most of his left wing, with a piece of bone jutting out. He hopped up onto the curb, looking for crumbs. This morning on my drive to work I saw a chipmunk with a smashed left back leg and tail dragging himself across the street. He pulled himself up onto the curb as I continued on my way. These types of moments cripple me a bit; something sad crumples me inside. It's like the sadnesses of the whole world get wrapped up in witnessing these tragedies. Maybe it's because I can hold these moments in my hands, actually give shape and definition and finiteness to them.

I have to remember the flipside of these moments too: the crow and the squirrel carrying on, making the most of what they've got, finding that food and finding that safety up on the curb. They are persevering. They are living.