The Birds

Our little ornithologist has added a new species to her bird vocabulary, and a new sound: "CAW!" We spend at least an hour every nice weekend down by the Potomac River, where the seagulls outnumber the ducks about 10:1 and the people 5:1. We long ago ran out of stale bread, so now we feed the birds whatever is on hand. They like Cheese Nips more than Goldfish, and they don't really care for Teddy Grahams. I want to try big hunks of suet next.

The seagulls are pretty aggressive, as you can see from the photo. They literally fly about five feet from your face, performing all sorts of aerial acrobatics... mid-air suspensions, slow glides, barrel rolls. Greta doesn't even flinch. And if the food is heavy enough, they catch it out of the air. I spend most of my time trying to get the seagulls to do dangerous maneuvers, while Carey and Greta try to isolate the ducks and make sure they get their fair share. It's all very romantic for me, having fallen for Carey while waist-deep in the "flying toward heaven" philosophy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull.