Dia de los Muertos on our soil

I imagined Dia de los Muertos, day of the dead was in full swing in our North West Tasmanian garden today.  Borrowed from another culture; a new face in a fresh place.  I say that with Frida Kahlo colour and thematics in mind.  The decorations for the dearly departed were lavish; roses, nasturtium and fuschia, adorned the site of a black bird husk.

A spirited child had collected the fallen body a day earlier.  He crafted a nest of twig and bloom.  The winged creature’s stiff frame was tended to; and ‘a concert’ was called to the small familiar crowd.  After a quick giggly tune, the crowd moved right up close for a look at the corpse. Something wiggled near the eye socket.

A dead bird,  It lived in the same space we do, chattered while we spoke, sang at times when we played. Nested, as we bunkered down in rough weather and lived with a family here too.

Oscar's bird concert 001

RIP birdy
RIP birdy
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Author: Lucy Taylor

Explorer of writing and place, with roots in the beautiful North West coast of Tasmania. Mother of wild boys, and wife of another. Blogging for another place to write about things that interest me and guide me. Also working on a novel and available for freelance copywriting in spare moments.

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