Saturday evening, David found a dead bird on the window seat of his cabin. It was late, so he tossed it into grass.
The next day, believing that a fallen comrade should be given a hero’s burial, we performed a brief shrouding and burial for the sparrow (at least we think it’s a sparrow, our combined ornithological skills leave something to be desired)(UPDATE: it’s some sort of thrush. Thanks, Kirk Betts!).