As I was reading my regular blogs I follow, I came across these bird photos by Mark Laita on styleswoon. I can't stop thinking about them: Were they captured? Were they found? Are they soft to the touch? There's something about their fragility that intrigues me. This one is my favorite. They look regal in their death, don't they?
My fascination with dead birds isn't new; rather, it began when I noticed a local pet shop's window filled with birdcages filled with an abundance of birds--vibrant and fluttering. I marvel at their beauty every time I walk by but lament their state. It seems they want to escape (but to what?) and every so often, I find one surrendered to a different fate. It makes me think of the scene from The Hours.
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