Two or three birds---gotta love 'em....

....Yes, the Vierkerator does confess to some pretty wierd shite hereabouts, now and again. Total digression.
So after planting some grass, the lawn sort, on my revamped walkway, to the Mansion, decided to reward meself with a motorcycle ride, on a typical glorious Maine coastal sunny day, to the city landing, to inspect water craft, socialize, and to try out my newest portable SW radio. Soooooo camp. VERY, camp.
So, after a little de riguer flirting and sniffing about, I sit on a bench, and fire up the $17 RETEKESS V115 Chinese unit. As small as a pack of smokes, and with a respectable base sound, via a rear diaphragm. From eBay, via direct mail from Shenzehn. Slick-o.
Radio Espanya Exterior, Radio Brasil, Radio France International, Radio Marti-for Cuba, and many more. I'm tickled, big time. And I was prepared for the disappointments of another cheap guy's Chinese piece of junk.
So while this is going on, two tiny sparrows land near my feet, gaily picking at crumbs, perhaps from those of bread I threw to the Seagulls, earlier in the day. These sparrows never are so bold. touching the sandals now and again. But the plot thickens. Bird-wise.
I'm so enchanted by these (?) friendly little ones, that, as often, I settle into a mild dissociative trance. Shades of incomplete recovery from altar boy days, when such was adaptive, likely avoiding disintegration at some levels, or worse. VERY worse.. Yep, it really works that way. Can't make any of this up, friends.
Startled out of it by splashes of mucous stinky white and brown liquid. On my sandals, my beautiful locks, shirt and pants, and yes, Vuck it all, right on my treasured new RADIO! These big birds don't screw around, especially after a feast on crabs and mussels. A MAGA seagull load, peebles.
Rapid shift of mindset, through brief anger, rationalizations, metaphysical thoughts, and of course, Karma. Again, using a once adaptive old tool pal from days in the Church, I settle on the spiritual, laced with a little berserk biology. Somehow, there's a lesson here, presented via my friends the birdies, and meant to stick, so to speak. Jungian pan consciousness, among these feathered, egg laying, present day remnants of the dinosaurs?
So rather than rush home to shower and washing machine, and a cold IPA beer, I endured the laughter of the crowd, and tried to spend a few minutes of growth, and learning. Grateful. True story. First ever such event. Even on the boats, where these birds are always about. Allah 'u Akbar.