Circle Of Death

 

"There's a white stain in the backyard," said my wife from the kitchen window Sunday morning as she sipped her coffee.

A short time later, after she went out to clean the backyard of toys and debris to mow it, she came back in and said that there was what looked like a dead bird out back.

I figured it to be one of the wrens from earlier in the week.

"Can you rake it up?" she asked.

"What's to rake up?" I thought.

So I went out in my t-shirt and sweatpants, flip flops on my feet, half a cup of coffee in my system and barely awake.

And then I saw the circle of death.

And then I figured this needed to be photographed.

Anf then I tried to figure out what had happened.

Like CSI.

Only I'm an authority on nothing.