Opinion
At dusk, one by one,
hundreds of gulls fall
out of the leaden sky
onto the lake, already
beginning to close
its lid for winter.
We call them
by their names,
recognize bill color,
molt, age, species —
see everything
but living beings —
finding their spots
for the night, calling out
to kin, to neighbors.
Afloat on freezing waves,
they turn together
into the north wind.
While, on shore, wrapped
in down coats, hats and gloves,
Last Friday we had the annual Family to Family Thanksgiving meal distribution at the First Baptist Church in Vineyard Haven.
I have lived on the Vineyard for 28 years and have read numerous stories over the years regarding dogs killing chickens. If my memory serves me correctly, it was usually the same dog repeating the offense and an irresponsible dog owner allowing this to happen over and over.
