With the first real heat of the summer firmly in place, I'm sticking closer to home... and the air-conditioning... so most of my walks will be local. Today's journey of discovery took me not much beyond the compost heap behind the vegetable garden, and while I was there, I noticed a surprising abundance of high-pitched buzzing, the kind that excited flies make. Something also didn't smell too nice, and when I followed both the noise and the mal-odor to the source, I found a dead opossum huddled against a small wood pile. The poor thing seemed to have met its maker a couple of days ago, and it was decaying rapidly in the warmth. It was also attracting quite a crowd, including a signature insect I met last year on a hawk corpse. The Hairy Rove Beetle is a staphylinid that dines on the deceased as well as on the youngsters, typically fly maggots, that also are found at the Last Table. I suppose I should give the possum a decent and quick burial, but, if my nose can stand it, this might be a rare chance to document a fascinating, if macabre, show about the natural undertakers.