A Beautiful Day. A Strange Sight.

What a glorious day! With the birds singing and the rising orb in the east promising an unseasonably warm February day, I headed to the Greenway to early in hopes of avoiding the inevitable crowds that would be lured by the warm sun later.

The birds were cooperative, with bluejays and song sparrows joining cardinals in a morning chorus (the bluejays' whining cries cutting through like a car horn amid the clear whistles and trills of the more melodious singers, though nobody seemed to mind). A careful tap...tap...taptap  high up in a treetop draws the eye to a little downy woodpecker, black-jacketed with an understated flash of crimson on the back of its head.

From the south rise the raucous honks of geese as they take wing out of the wetlands and cross the sky in a sloppy V heading north. The birds seem to be enjoying the promise of the day as much as the humans.

Turning towards home, I glance at the motionless "Birds in Flight" sculpture. What--? Did somebody toss a stick up there? Why in the world...? That just...that doesn't look right.

A closer look with the camera's zoom reveals the gruesome truth. A foot...two feet...attached to furry brown legs dangling over the edge of the flattened "bird." I circle around to the other side but see nothing more. Some raptor's meal, abandoned atop a convenient dinner table. Meanwhile, house sparrows and dark-eyed juncos frolic and chatter just below.

You never know what you will see when you visit the Sycamore Greenway. The mundane, the sublime, the downright bizarre. It's what keeps me coming back.