Aerial Burial
I, Bernie Harberts, did not use generative AI to write or illustrate this article. Spell check and grammar check, yes. AI, no.
The yellow body on the bridge caught my eyes and I pulled the mules to a halt. A yellow warbler dead on the cement. I scooped it up in my gloved hand. I could do better.


Dying on a bridge is a lonely way to go. No rotting away gently in the grassy shoulder. No feeding the vultures. You just dry up and one day a semi blows you through the bridge cracks in to the creek below.
Undignified.

More on the North Carolina to Idaho ride.
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I love something about this piece of writing but can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s just simple and beautiful.