The wind tumbled a winter leaf over the stony shore.
When it passed by my feet I looked down and found this precious skull; so delicate, so perfect. Just what was it when it lived?
Picking it up, watching seaweed slip away, the texture of the bone under my fingertips felt like a favorite polished stone. I expected a wretched smell, but death was long gone. The side bones created an eye to look in, even now. Could this be a baby seal head?
At the back, where the brain must have been housed, was a hole where the vertebrae would have streamed through—so amazing to look in and see where understanding took place. What, I wonder, was this creatures last thought?
Flipping the skull over, there are cavities, holes, where teeth nestled neatly in place. Appears two large canine teeth protected this creature. There also is an extra row of teeth back by what might be molars. Would that help it grind food?
I close my eyes while gently gripping it in my hand and rubbing my thumb along the ridgeline of the skull; in my mind’s eye I see a Fisher or a Fox. Maybe one killed the other?
One day, I may discover what creature’s head is now displayed on my shelf.