Not a scene of carnage
Apparently, a scene of sunbathers.
This was just the other day, when I happened to look out the back door of the breakroom at the DayJob, and spied what seemed to be dozens of pathetic barn swallow corpses strewn about the patio.
When I stepped outside to search for survivors, they all simultaneously startled, glared at me in indignation, and flew off.
But not very far:
The skeleton of our wind-stripped event tent seems to be a popular hangout lately.
I think I can be excused for my error, considering that some of these birds were splayed out flat, wings spread, heads limply lolling to one side.
But all was well, after all. They just watched me from the tent-supports with great suspicion, until I went back inside, at which point they promptly flew down and splayed themselves out again.