seagulls

Whenever it's stormy on the Oregon coast you can tell because the seagulls decide to make their home further inland. I used to get annoyed because they'd fly everywhere, dig through the trash cans and I was always worried they'd poop on my head [because my sister Clare had seagulls poop on her twice in one day years ago]. Now the sound of seagulls elicits a different response. I hear their squawking and it tugs at my heart just a little. I am reminded of walks down the the village with BFF, cups of coffee from Toot's warming our wind chilled hands. I think of early morning runs with Mat Karney in my ears and the sunrise along East Cliff to encourage me and keep me company. I'm not so worried that they'll poop on my head any more either, but I think that has to do more with familiarity and less to do with statistical probability.