The Groundhog

The other day I was walking to school and I found a groundhog dead on the top of the hill. He must have frozen to death that night. It upset me a little to think that he had survived through such a long winter only to fail now at the dawn of spring. By the time I walked home that evening, the birds had picked him clean. Only the bones, feet, and head remained.

I started to wonder why this had been shown to me. I suppose it could be a coincidence that I saw it and a coincidence that the birds had not carried it off. But I don't really believe in coincidences. I believe that something that I took such great notice of is something that I was meant to notice. And now I wonder what the message was.

After a long, cold winter, do I give up? Do I submit my insides to the birds to tear out and leave me hollow? Is this a sign that this is the end? Or is it a warning? Am I to persevere through the cold and the darkness? If I hold on just a little bit longer, will I survive?

I don't know.