Grotesque
It’s been rain, rain and more rain here in the Land O’ Salamander. This morning, briefly, the sun managed to find a cleft in the clouds. While I can’t say that the sun actually made an appearance, it was finally possible to see shadows outside. I opened the slats of the blinds by the deck to let some basking rays in for the sun-loving felids, and was greeted by this lovely sight:
I’m assuming nobody wants me to post a close-up. For those of you who see and yet do not believe, those are indeed a set of bird feet, still attached to the drumsticks. At a guess I’d say they used to belong to a robin (based on color and size). And no, I have no idea how they got there. I’m hoping that either the rain washes them away or whatever left them there comes back to finish breakfast. There is no way I want to deal with those directly.
Eeeuw!
You’re a peach!
Thanks!
Wow!
whoa. that’s crazy.
Doesn’t everybody have a set of dead birdy feet on their deck???
P.S. I’ll get back to you on the beads later this evening!
I’ve heard the term, "It knocked me off my feet," my entire life. (Usually regarding some horrible smell.) I just had no idea it could really happen until now. Wow. That poor bird. May I never be knocked off my feet. At least not like that!