Only the second day back at work and on the way home this evening I picked up three dead birds. Sometimes I can go weeks and not see a dead bird and then three come along together. I don't know why and they were all lying by the roadside within half a mile of each other on a sunny late summer evening. The robin is so tiny when held in the hand and the larger black bird is a juvenile thrush I think while the tawny owl is little more than a shattered headless feathery memory of it's former self, the beautiful barred wing feathers waving sadly in the breeze. When I stop carefully to pick up dead birds the passing traffic must wonder what I'm up to, normally I can quickly pop one discretely on the bike rack but today I had another strapped to the side of the pannier and a third in my pocket.