I wrote about my ducks Greta and Anka the other day. I wrote about their attack by a hawk. Well upon reflection it was a stoat.
I had written that I thought Anka had got away… and that I hoped she would come back. Her mother Greta was killed in the stoat attack; and my mother was seriously ill. I figured we needed each other.
My mother passed away a week ago today. The day before she died, three whites doves appeared in the garden and have taken up residence in the dovecote…much billing and cooing and hopefully eggs on a nest.
On the day after my mother died, I found Anka. She was dead. She would have died along with Greta in the stoat attack.Her body was hidden under the flax over hanging the pond. We have buried her next to Greta.
I cried buckets. Then I thought about what Nature is showing me. Death happens. Sometimes the things we want to come back just don’t… they have had their time. And life does go on… doves, that sign of peace, settle in the garden and create a nest for the next generation.