One thing I love about living closer to nature is how attuned I have become to the seasons. Although fall is still my favorite— for its surge of energy, its bittersweet luminosity—I have developed a much deeper appreciation of each one's particular qualities. The light, the air, the plants and the animals all telegraph the changes and make me so accutely aware of the cycle of life. In nature, death is not hidden away. Decay, rot, disease, skeletons—even genocide and homicide—are all around. These signs of death can sometimes be chilling, but also poignant and beautiful. You come across "scenes," learn to piece together clues and decipher narratives. On the rickety porch of an abandoned cottage nearby (I stop by there often to check out the old apple tree, the twining vines of wisteria and wild grape, the rampant patches of day lilies and iris), I found this tattered bird's nest. Inside were the dessicated skeletons of two baby birds. They reminded me of Heckle and Jeckle and I took them home, adding them to my collection of deer vertebrae, dead bugs and found feathers.

How did they come to be there? They must have been abandoned by their mother and left to starve to death. Perhaps she was eaten by a cat or a bird of prey, or fell ill and never made it back to the nest. Such a tragedy that these two were unable to fend for themselves. Were they robins? Chickadees? My powers of deduction end here.

I found this beautful mourning dove at the foot of our driveway. It must have been mere moments after some other creature eviscerated her. You can see by those few black seeds spilling out of her that she had recently been dining at our birdfeeder. Her head was nowhere in sight. A treat for some hawk? Had a fox made quick work of her? I never knew.

I was amazed that this garter snake let me get so close to take its picture. Afterwards, I got a stick and tried to nudge it off the road so it wouldn't get run over, only to discover that it was dead. It looked so alive, perfectly intact. Did it die of old age?

Life is fragile, fleeting. The seasons rush by. Things die and are born around us every day. Allow yourself to explore all of it. Do not shield yourself from anything. Experience the full spectrum of emotions. Being truly alive means acknowledging death and moving toward it without fear. It is part of the profoundly beautiful mystery and this wondrous journey we all share.