A few evenings ago, I was taken by surprise at the sound of seagulls flying overhead. I've seen them congregating in parking lots where they expect to find fast food flung out of car windows, and they're usually found on larger lakes in the area throughout the summer, but I wasn't expecting to see flocks of them flying over Lonewolf in late April.
To enhance the scene, they were flying against the backdrop of a waxing crescent moon, lit by the sun still sinking in the west. Off the moon's shoulder sat Venus, like a lantern suspended by thick twilight. The sound and the scene kept me standing there for several minutes. It was a really beautiful sight. I thought about my favorite seagull of all, Jonathan Livingston. He taught me valuable lessons way back in the '70's, lessons that have stayed with me and continue to serve me well.
The next morning, as I was leaving to have lunch with a friend, I found my blue car covered in white splotches of seagull poop. It looked like Jackson Pollock had paid a visit. I almost felt avant garde as I drove the ten miles to the nearest car wash. Almost.
Images: Jackson Pollock's 1 - 4