Spring Song in B flat

Bike, B-roads, bright and breezy. Two butterflies. Big endorphin surge. Bootiful.

But.

A brace of dead pheasants, bright blood and paler entrails on the bitumen, and a gas-bloated badger decomposing by a field gate: sodden and battered by yesterday's rain, canines exposed in a final, fixed snarl.

Another day between here and gone.