A Game Between Life and Death
A photographic documentary of the life gone

It is part of life. Death. Yet, we try to avoid talking about it. We think by not using the word we can make it disappear. The end of life. But it will come. Eventually.
The same life and death exist in the world of animals. It might just come sooner and be more obvious. But it’s still there—the game between life and death.
This dove in the picture above was lying in the parking lot next to the airport just after the most recent storm. I can’t tell you if the bird got knocked out by something, fell out of the nest, or got attacked by another animal.
In the end, it doesn’t matter.
The life of this bird is gone. Forever.
But I kept the peaceful smile. In my photograph.

Another one I stumbled across was a bunny. It must have been a young one because we get pretty big ones in the fields in northern Germany.
I’m not sure if the bunny became a victim of a bird of prey or if it was the cat. Some say it must have been the cat. I know the airfield cat is hunting lots of m,ice and catching them. But a bunny is on a different level.
But then again, when an eagle catches its prey, he won’t drop it again. And that bunny was lying there. As a whole. Including the fur. I took the picture two days later when only the head was left.
That’s also part of life in the wild.
Dead animals disappear quickly.

Then there are more signs of life and death.
A feather lying on the ground doesn’t mean a bird had to fight for its life. It could just be that. Well, a bird lost its feather. Not more or less.

Moore obvious are the signs of leftover bones. Not to be found so often in our woods but here it is. A small piece of a bone.
Some animal had died here or somewhere in the vicinity. Possibly a while ago. But who knows?

And then there was this leg of a deer I assume. It must have been a young one. Located next to what I think is the house of a fox. And if a fox had taken this animal down it surely wasn’t a fully grown deer.

And there is Junie.
The huntress.
The hunter that is responsible for every caught mouse at the airfield. Almost at least. The birds also catch a few. But surely not as many as Junie does.
She might also be responsible for one or the other feather on the ground. Not sure, I never saw her chasing birds but I’m sure she does.

And this was my different kind of photo essay.
One about the nearing end and death.
The circle of life.
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