Where’s the Action?

 

waves

Last night’s windstorm littered the Treadwell ruins with broken branches. But now only rain falls on the little dog and I. The place seems empty. A croaking raven hides in the woods and the neighborhood eagles and ducks have been blown off the channel. Only a seal breaks the monotony of green and gray. He holds his head above the channel surface, like us, looking for some action.

seals

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