The Fibrous Fish

Today I watched a second year Glaucous-winged Gull treat a water-logged shred of cedar bark as if it was a prize fish. The gull picked it up from the edge of the surf, strutted about with it in his beak; then he sat it down and picked at it. When a first year Glaucous-winged moved in to see if he could have some too, the older gull snatched it back up, whipped his head away and strutted on down the beach. Was it a game? Was it practice? Was it wishful thinking? Whatever it was, it was certainly amusing.

A Walk with Otters

A half moon cove of
sand and pebbles,
driftwood,
and weeds of the sea.

From water like glass emerge
heads and whiskers,
wet,
curious critters following me.