Warm rain falls as I stand, soaked at the water’s edge. Sound of waves on a grey white day. Close my eyes to listen. Open to see. Looking for presence and a quiet place that’s not to be found.
Heading back, something causes hundreds of gulls to lift off a sandbar. Herring, Bonaparte and Ring Billed. The air is full. And then, as though one great mind changes. They hear, see, know. Something. Wings stop and slowly, one at a time they drift back down to earth. And I find what I was looking for.