Maria and I see so much death on our farm that we can’t count it all. On a farm, you get used to death, but the truth is one never really gets used to it. Death is a part of life here; the laws of nature say that one half of nature is always killing or eating the other.

I love my cat Zip; we are closer than ever, but I will never quite understand the great reality and mystery of cats. They can be loving one minute and murderous the next. It is the way of things, and if I can’t stomach it, then get back to the city where death it is rarely seen or mentioned.

Today, Maria and I were walking back to the farmhouse from the morning rounds, and Maria froze at something she was seeing on the ground. She had a troubling look on her face, and I came over to see what had halted her.

“Down there,” she said, pointing to the ground, “I think it’s a Chipmunk, still alive.”

It was obviously Zip, and he often kills things without eating them. It seems to be his nature, as well as loving us. Putting a bell on him is not acceptable for a Barn Cat for me.

Maria is tough as nails on the farm, but I like to spare her some things when I can. This death thing is a part of life, for sure; one goes hand in hand with the other. Some animal lovers believe that animals should never die for any reason, but if you live on a farm, there are lots of reasons.

“I’ll take care of this one,” I said, and when Maria walked away, I made sure that Chipmunk was dead. I took a photo of the Chipmunk and decided to put it on my blog, which these days is devoted to uplifting and beautiful images.

There is enough ugliness outside. This image haunted me all day, I’m not sure why.

But the problem with all Pastoral photographs is that they romanticize nature, the farm, and the animal world. They are meant to link people with nature, not scare them off – cities can do that.

I don’t wish only to take photos of beautiful things and cute animals. When people tell me I have a perfect life, I shake my head. There is no such thing.

There is more to it than death. I love chipmunks; they are smart, feisty, peaceful, and helpless when it comes to defending themselves – perfect bait for hawks, owls, coyotes, and cats.

I said goodbye to the Chipmunk and apologized for what I was about to do.

A few minutes later, I was coming into the house when Zip appeared, ready to have his belly scratched. “I just can’t do it at the moment, pal,” I said and went inside the house. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Life on the farm has taught me a lot, one of which is to accept the reality of death. It keeps all things alive, in one way or another.