I drove to a national park with my husband for a nature-filled retreat this summer. The drive was long and the hour twilight. The roads were gray and shadowed, trees forming triangular apparitions on either side.
One of the busiest Canadian roadways slices through Canada's Banff National Park, creating a lethal corridor for wildlife. In the 1970s, animals died so frequently here that people called the highway the "meat maker."
What seems to provoke disgust is the co-presence of death with pulsing life: the corpse being consumed by bacteria and worms, living things turned to dead pulp in digestion, bleeding wounds, scurrying rats in graveyards.