Birds as big as bombers
Our last day dawned clear and cold, frost diamonds sparkled, the sun shone. We went to the shore for this last flight and I got into the broom bushes, tucked well out of a rather wicked little wind that sprang up soon after sunrise.
I felt a pang that this was the last day of our trip. How quickly the good times race by in life. They fly like those moving gleams of sunlight when clouds chase over. Yet, by their very transient nature, these great days of sports are relished more and remembered better.
To the east the sky was radiant but barred with grey clouds, which foretold snow. Gulls began to pass up the water’s
