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I had to make an early morning trip to the market, just as the sun was rising. Very gold, clear and bright, the sun hung just above the horizon by the time I arrived. The frigid pre-dawn was still hanging in the air, everything quiet but for the sounds of birds. I went inside and got my groceries for the day. Good news, the Chilean grape harvest had finally arrived in Oregon, and I had first pick of them.
As I wheeled my little cart to the back of my van to unload it, and before I could throw open the hatch, two very large seagulls came flying straight at me. In the beak of one of them was a bread roll, what we call a hoagie, and the bird dropped it at my feet and flew off with the other faster than it takes to think about it. The roll was dropped so quickly, it should have bounced, but it lay there as still as from a mother’s hand.
The gulls had flown up to a lamp post and were sitting on it, watching me. Yes, I know this was probably just an instance of two gulls fighting over some food, play fighting really,
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The bread they dropped me was entire, except for missing a little off one end, broken so cleanly off it almost looked like it were cut with a knife. Though it happened so quickly, I had noticed that the bird’s narrow, pointed beak had been grasping it at that end, else it couldn’t have found a hold, as the crust was by now very hard. I picked it up just to take a closer look, and then, breaking it in two, put it down again, as if to say, ‘Thanks, brothers, but this one is for you.’ I got into my van, and drove off.
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