Weekly Photo Challenge: Beneath my feet

/ taphian

The free animal
has its dying always behind it
and God in front of it, and its way
is the eternal way, as the spring flowing.
Never, not for a moment, do we have
pure space before us, where the flowers
endlessly open.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

32 thoughts on “Weekly Photo Challenge: Beneath my feet”

  2. So sad to see. The birds here occasionally run into our big kitchen window. It reflects the blue sky and clouds, and they come in under the roof of the deck, think they are seeing open space, and don’t have time to get properly oriented. Sometimes they put on their brakes and don’t hit full force. We usually wait a while to see if they are just stunned before lovingly gathering them up for disposal. Can’t bury them because our yard is all rocks, so we wrap them in plastic and put them into the garbage can. This is sad, but the only thing we can do. 😦

    Virtual hugs,

    Judie

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  3. Oh Mitza, this is such a difficult time of the year for the baby birds. They are stunning themselves all the time as they fly into the glass of my house and greenhouse.
    But Rilke….how I love Rilke. My favourite poet x

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    • yes, that’s true with the birds. But still I think this photo is beautiful. Death can be beautiful and Rilke – we have one thing more in common – is overwhelming in his poetry. Wish you a sunny day, xxx

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    • Life and death belong together, we have to accept this fact, even though it is very hard. But even in death there can be beauty, Natalie. And the poem from Rilke, didn’t that please you? Virtual hugs Mitza

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      • Yes, life and death do go together and I did love what Rilke said. It’s just that for some reason I always find great sadness when I see or find a dead bird in my yard, Mitza! Maybe because they have wings, it’s almost as if an angel has died. Who knows?! Hugs to you too, N 🙂 ❤

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      • Oh, I understand. You are right. But blackbirds are so common here that you nearly step on them. There are still lots. And if it was an angel maybe it had fulfilled it’s work and gets the chance to rest a bit before it is reborn to support you or me. Whenever I find a feather I always think that it might have been from my guardian angel. Virtual hugs, Mitza

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    • You are completely right, Mary. But as I wrote before in another comment, to accept death is the hardest thing in life. Death has visited me first when I was 4,5 years old and took my beloved father. That was a bit too early to know about death. I’m still sad about it, as you say, it’s only sad for the living. Regards Mitza

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    • A child is not able to handle with death in a rational way, Mary. I needed some very sensitive and empathetic people to help me to overcome this trauma, which I unfortunately didn’t have. My father somehow disappeared and I couldn’t even visit his funeral or face with his death. Up to now a very traumatic experience which resulted in very bad feelings for my mother. Kind regards Mitza

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      • It is strange–the beauty seems to be an after thought–an intellectual adjustment of sorts. In your photo it is post-death beauty in the colors and textures of the feathers of the dead bird. Existential questions are always blurry, no?

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      • Thanks a lot for your wonderful words. I found beauty in this dead bird and in the wonderful poem from Rilke. But I feel that most bloggers had a problem with this post, even though it shows something very natural. Death is not a good topic, we always want to push it away. I have my difficulties, too, but I still like my post a lot. Thanks again for your true comment, have a wonderful day, regards Mitza

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