Death in the yard

Today a huge redshouldered hawk hunted in our yard. We’ve been enjoying a flock of paired cardinals, who frequent our feeder, all winter.
I saw the hawk with its catch, way back on the discarded trunks of fallen trees. Walking on the skittery packed snow, i hoped it wouldn’t be one of the cardinals, but the strewn feathers were those of healthy female- soft gray, tinged with pale orange and brown.
I saw her mate and some of the other females. He was high up on a branch near the house, frantically calling out, his head jerking in all directions after each staccato chirp.
I don’t care that it’s all natural . I would argue the whole system is wrong. Profound suffering . What for?
That’s rhetorical.
I sent this message to Day. She suggested I experience “just the gratitude you had them this winter.”
“But they’re not here for me they ‘re here for themselves. guess you’re right I could still experience gratitude for getting to share their beauty over a course of the winter and beyond.”
And then she said “I’m not sure gratitude is a benefit like a profit. But it can be a medicine.

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