"Yes? You called?"
Sometimes the beach echoes with the cries of gulls. ("Gull", my old Oxford says, comes from the "Welsh gwylan, Cornish guilan: ... 'to weep'. The probable sense was 'wailer' from its cry.") Last Sunday, they mostly sat silently, waiting for the falling tide to expose their clam supper.
Gull man. (Gullible? Gulliver? Gully?)
Pre-flight pose. Looks a bit tipsy.
"Hey! That's me, down there!"
The sandpipers had already found their dinner, and chatted quietly as they ate:
"Peep, peep, peep, ... Let's try another spot. Over there! ..."
I love this photo, fuzzy as it is. Laurie was panning with the birds, but just not fast enough. I like the sense of movement and those needle-sharp bills. Danger coming, all you worms and beach hoppers! Hide!
The mallards were more placid, dawdling about in sleepy pairs.
... unless a dog happened by. Then ...
... off they went, with an annoyed, "Quack, quack, quack, QUACK!"