Thinking only of the animals I am familiar with seeing around my area of prairie, at first it did not dawn on me what I was looking at. Then, realizing I was looking at the teeth of a predator, I knew what I had. It gave me chill.
The jaw bone of this wild boar is well weathered so it has been some time since the animal laid down and died here. The bone has a different feel than finding new antler sheds, both because of it’s age and because of what the bones of a wild predator represents to me. A moose antler is a wonder, a boar jaw feels a bit more untamed.
Land and space feel a particular way and finding old bones somehow brings that sense back to me. I think I know my land, but really all I know is what I visually see and how that directly relates to me. The hilltops with the best views, the favorite sitting stones, water logged areas, prime brush areas for sheltering sheep, where the lambs like to play, how the grass grows. Yet there is so much that goes on unseen, unheard and unknown; perhaps there are animals passing through while I sit here typing.
Finding the bones of animals that have crossed here unobserved makes me think of how vast and unrevealed this place is. Of just how much land we sit on. Lately while I walk dogs I find myself looking up and out, and feeling amazed that two people could possess all this. Is it too much? Just what is the purpose of it all? How much more can it be?