An odd phrase, really. I understand what it has come to mean in our culture, kind of a code for pulling the plug. Life with dignity. A rich thought stew there, but for another day.
Walking this morning, I saw heavy drops of dew shimmering in the sunrise as they clung to the dead pine needle clusters. The last time I photographed this fallen giant, about a week after Hurricane Ivan took it down for the count, these needles were still bright green. They were laying on the ground, tragically askew.
But now, look for yourself and I think you’ll agree that they are exquisite, burnished to a fine pecan color, providing food and shelter for a variety of woodland creatures, and beauty for my eyes. Truly, death with dignity.