The gulls are calling, overhead. I feel as if they are laughing at me, but instead, they are just making their age-old dinosaur cry, and I wonder if even they know why. But when I hear gulls calling my spirits always lift, perhaps from some deep memory of sun and sea drift; but gulls keep reminding me of the reasons to be. Life, sun, air, and breathe. Listen to the gulls as they call, then they leave.
