In the beech wood the bare boughs glistened
grey in the thin December sunshine and there
on a mossy stump, also grey like a small clump
of lichen the pellet sat evincing the white tips
of rib bone of some small rodent through the 
clumped fur regurgitated from an owl's gullet.
Sitting on the stump I spread the contents in the palm
of my hand: those rib bones like small curved spears,
bits of vertebrae, fragmented teeth; a few wiry hairs
tangled in with the fur and some hard, black chitin 
from a beetle's carapace.  Not to be digested these 
things were now treasure-trove, discovered bounty 
of a hunter's leavings,  and so I left them
spread on the moss where the pellet had fallen.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This was so beautiful. Fascinated me that Heron captured the stillness of life, while at the exact same, transmiting the idea of a symbiotic activity happening in Nature. All from the simplicity of view through an owl pellet.
This one is truly a praiseworthy observation.
I'm sure there have been many more; however, this is my first visit to this blog. Stumbled upon it by happenstance.

Hugs to all