So we make the passage once again: the eternal circuit of the seasons.
But as the song says, for us Life never knows the return of Spring.




As for our soldiers, so for the birds.
A newborn fallen from the nest lies dead upon the ground, while a more fortunate casualty of existence, a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher with a broken wing, is evacuated to the local ranger station in search of rehabilitation.




Is there any hope for such a fragile creature?
Is there any hope for us?