I walk my dogs every evening, we go up the hill, look at the city and then trot back home, it's about 1.5 miles and about 25 pit stops.
Death by Inattention
Not much escapes me, I notice the new paint job on the neighbor's house, the bent fender on the new car, the dumpsters filled with demolished houses, and yesterday there was something new. Road Kill. You could say it was almost a cartoon version of Road Kill. The poor ground squirrel was sprawled out, all four limbs 90˚ from it's torso, and it's tail straight out, flatter than a pancake. Nature was taking it's course with wasps and flies making their way through the Squirrel Drive-Thru.
Up the street there was a flattened lizard. I was seeing a pattern here. A pattern that made me uncomfortable. The roads in my quiet neighborhood was a death trap for four legged critters. On that road many a vermin met their untimely death, Death is not dressed in black with a scythe but 25 pounds of black rubber going about 25 MPH>
Death by Lack of Attention
Online you can see Road Kill as well, click on a bookmark you haven't visited for a while and is it still there? Or are you seeing the ubiquitous "Page cannot be found"? Websites are like squirrels, you have some that constantly hunt and forage and save their nuts for lean times and they survive, others get caught in the headlights of an onrushing force greater than them and go to website heaven. As we travel our well worn paths online, we notice the new, the old and the dearly departed. And like squirrels, we know they are not about to go extinct and that a new crop of them will be running across the information super highway over their flattened comrades.
Image: Ophelia Chong / WEB!
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Good point. I've spent the last hour or so deleting old bookmarks that seem to have become roadkill.
This is really insightful, Ophelia. The impermanence of online media is certainly a concern.