Gulls, ernes, pelicans have a certain dignity as they go about their business. Dropping from the sky, skimming water, then rising, successful in the hunt. The little busybodies of the beach, the sandpipers, run back and forth, back and forth, pecking at damp sand to find their meal. Searching, always searching. Even as they peck and swallow the invisible, they must race ceaselessly to feed. Their funny, sweet dance does not differ in purpose from that of  its soaring cousins. 


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