It's an infinite loop intertwined with life that all humans have to deal with.
It's a looming shadow that leads to a hole in the ground.
It's a terrifying presence in everyday life, and you never really know when the scaly, slithering snake will strike.
It doesn't discriminate; It loves to take the youngest, it loves to take the oldest, and loves to take everything in between.
It's the silence before the storm and the storm itself.
It prowls, it preys, on the weakest.
It is both the biggest, strongest bear and the deadliest bug bite.
Death, it is the blackened stumps of the wildlife caught in the worst of fires.
Yet, it can be beautiful.
Most wouldn't think so, probably have never put "death" and "beautiful" together in the same sentence, let alone even in the same paragraph.
But death is beautiful.
It can be like the last whisper of a fall breeze before winter sets in.
Or is like the sunset, right when the last of the red from the sinking sun fades from the darkened night sky.
It can be the peace on a late Sunday afternoon, sitting in the shade of a giant tree in the summer.
It's like taking the hand of the partner you've decided to live with, even after fighting with them.
It's the hand you use to stroke the head of kittens, and the hand you use to scratch puppies tummies.
It's the hand that gives, but it is also the hand that takes away.
