I witnessed a murder in my apartment today. And I got it on film.

In case you were wondering why my bathroom looks so disgusting, I shall remind you that I live in a giant old Victorian-era house. It’s well over 100 years old and has many nooks and crannies where the debris of life get caught (much like the bug) and remain until the place is knocked down. I’m a neat freak and clean deeply and regularly, but I just can’t reach that spot near the radiator. That’s probably why mommy and baby spider thought it was prime real estate.

I’m actually terrified of bugs (Once hallucinated them everywhere when I was a small child due to some dubious ingredients in Triaminic cough medicine in the 80’s) but this sight was so fascinating that I overcame my fears and sat down to watch.

I feel a little itchy now but I think that’s just some psychological response.

I have always had a great respect for nature and I feel lucky to be able to observe some of her lesser-seen sides. For this reason I did not interfere with the spider and its prey. Sometimes you just have to let nature take its course.

However earlier today I witnessed another small death– the impending doom of a wounded pigeon on the street.

I was on my way home from the subway and saw the pitiful creature flap in front of a small boy, which is odd since pigeons are usually pretty good at not flapping directly on your feet. As the boy passed I noticed the erratic movements of the bird as it flipped and flopped over to the side of the building. To my horror and dismay I saw great gobs of thick blood in each place that it’s wing had touched. Upon closer inspection the poor thing had a broken wing; a compound fracture that was slowly leaking it’s lifeblood away and onto the dirty street.

I assume that the fracture had ruptured one of the main blood vessels in the wing as there was much blood, thick in consistency. It was almost like ketchup, though I assure you it was not.

The bird made no sound though I might have expected a squawk or two. I believe it knew that the time had come for passing, though it struggled valiantly to remain on its feet and out of the way of other pedestrians. My heart went out to it at that moment, my pity and sadness for the untimely and surely painful end of one of nature’s children.

I could not help it–all of this happened within a moment in time that has been seared in my mind. My body responded physically with phantom pains in my corresponding arm, empathizing with the bird. Before I knew it I had walked on, leaving the pigeon behind, wishing fervently for its quick death, to end the suffering I had seen. I had nothing to offer the poor creature but my hope for a merciful end to it’s life.

This image stayed with me all evening, up to the point of this posting. I feel that it has affected me deeply, and touched a chord in my heart. I feel guilt and sadness that I could not help the bird. I try to rationalize my inability to act by saying that I could not have killed it cleanly enough to be humane, and that nature should be allowed to run its course. I don’t know whether my feelings and actions are right, but it is all that I know.

I have witnessed the deaths of two creatures today, and have meted it out myself upon other creatures over the years. I believe that we should let the natural world be, and also that sometimes a quick death is better than a bare survival. The bird could have recovered, kept its life. But what kind of life would it have, unable to fly to find food, court or flee danger?

Sometimes death is a kind friend.

I can’t help but look into the happenings of today and pick out a recurring theme of death and life. The bird would die, surely, but it gave me a greater appreciation for my own life, and allowed me to feel sorrow, which I have not felt for a long time. The mother spider, catching and killing it’s prey with baby in tow reminded me that things in life aren’t always easy, but they will work out eventually and bring new, wonderous things into the world. She was thrown off the bug several times, but got back up with determination and fought the bug that was three times her size to provide herself and her child with sustenance.

Death means endings, but it also means beginnings. It was written that this year, and particularly this month would be a time of great changes and new beginnings for me. I believe that what I saw today was heralding those changes to come.

And I wait with bated breath, and the patience of a spider.