I’m not a vegan or an animal-rights activist, but there is something profound about taking another living creature’s life.
The other night, I hit a bird while driving my car. Its been years since I’ve felt that particular and distinct thud of running over a creature. Oh sure, I’ve killed several thousand bugs and a few bees have kamikazed themselves into my flesh while I was on my motorcycle, but feeling that thump, hearing the thunk, and seeing in my rear view mirror a snow of feathers cascading in my wake sent a pang of sadness and sorrow through my body.
I am so sorry that in my rush from point A to point B you had to give up your life.
Not for my sustenance, but because of my disconnect.
When I drove home, I was too cowardly to retrace my path for fear I might see from my front window the death I caused.
It seems such a little thing – the death of a pigeon, but if I hadn’t left my home on a wave of anxiety, that bird would still be alive.
… and what a lovely sunset it was.