The ends of a couple loaves of bread have sat in the pantry for more than a week waiting for me to break them up into bits and leave a few minutes earlier than usual one morning like this one, thus making time to hang a bit feeding some of the feathered set Ballona creekside in the Del Rey.
I dig that scene better than the local park because pitching the fresh croutons brings greater variety. In your average urban setting you’re likely to draw pigeons mostly. House sparrows too, and maybe some mockingbirds or jays. Here by the waterway you get your pigeons of course, but you also bring in some ravens, who swoop in then quickly to realize they don’t need you’re damn handouts because they’re bad ass self-sufficient ravens who could make their own bread if they wanted so fuck off. Then the goofy coots pad up tentatively on their disproportionately huge feet, looking a bit non-plussed. Next waddle in the mallards a-quacking. Lastly and mostly are the gulls, of course. Gulls, gulls, and more gulls. Multiple species but all with the same outsided and noisy ense of entitlement. You tell them to chill, there’s plenty, but they just screeeee at you in between busting half-assed chickenshit moves like this one I snapped (biggifiable):
The duck got a bonus handful for enduring that ass assault.
Before long the bag’s empty and I’m back up on the bike path watching for a few moments as they swarm where I’d been sitting for the crumbs that fell there. Then they go their ways and I mine.