It was for the birds

“Let’s go to the lake,” Rick said. The sun was thinking about setting

We grabbed the stale bread. 
 

We wandered out onto the top dock and sat on the bottom stair leading to the bottom dock.

Rick had to stomp on the bread to break it into small enough pieces. 

The sky over the mountains had pink streaks. Several kinds of ducks circled near the dock. One male was more efficient than the rest and was able to garner more than his share.

The word went out by some unseen messenger. 

Gulls arrived in droves. The could hover like helicopters and quickly caught the bread before it hit the water. One even seemed to go in reverse. Between throws they would settle in the water as the ducks placidly swam among them. No territorial issues surfaced between the species.

Then all the gulls rose from the water and took off in the direction of the Jura mountains in a flock.

Rick and I looked confused as to why, but they turned in a perfect flight pattern and returned.

One thought hit me.

HITCHCOCK.

We were almost out of bread. All the birds seemed to know and as we stood up, they turned their backs to us and headed for wherever they would spend the night.

Their bedtime snack providers were of no more interest.

The sun was almost gone. We are coming up to the shortest day of the year. The lake had just a tinge of pink among the gray as we headed back to the house.

Note to Ginger...too bad Andrew wasn't with us.