Last night, something (we're guessing it was a weasel--or a whole army of weasels) got into the chicken house and massacred the chickens. I mean eviscerated, dismembered, and all that. E discovered the carcasses when I sent him out to open their door. Naturally everyone is very heartbroken (especially Z).
We had a little chicken funeral in the rain this afternoon, and planted this peony on their grave.
If you would indeed behold the spirit
of death, open your heart wide
unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the
river and sea are one.