This afternoon, while doing yardwork, I found a dead robin. It was sprawled in the grass, face-down, wings spread. The body was quite the distance from any windows, and there was no sign of predation: the breast feathers were intact, which isn't often the case when a bird is taken down by a cat or other animal.
I moved the robin to the shade and began to photograph it; the eyes were sunken and the flies and ants had found the body before me.
At this point, I decided to simply start watching. The blue- and green-bottle flies returned, landing on primaries and down; some laid eggs, others sampled the surface. Ants large and small wove their way through the feathery fluff.