So we went on down the White Rock hill to the beach, where the tide was higher than I ever remember seeing it. It was raining, slightly, enough to wet the camera lens but not much more. But we were dressed for indoor pursuits, and we stood shivering in the parking lot watching the gulls for only a few minutes. Enough. We went back to town for tea and coffee.
|Fat brown gull, not minding the damp|
I sometimes wonder; gulls and ducks and other shorebirds keep themselves so comfy and warm, all bundled up in layers of feathers from the top of the head to the tip of the tail, but then let their legs and feet stick out totally unprotected into the cold. Don't they feel the contrast? Why don't they hunker down, like, for example, a chicken, or even a sparrow, wrapping their legs in that feather quilt?
Nature is weird.