This was a slightly strange sight in Donaldson Park this Thanksgiving morning. We'd gone to take a brisk constitutional before it started to sleet, and came upon a car slowly driving up to a flock of seagulls - looking to accelerate, maybe, in order to capture a bird for dinner? (the thought of how fishy a seagull would be to consume has stayed with me since we read The Lonely Londoners for a class in the spring - there were, after all, a bevy of guys fishing in the Raritan this morning too, and quite possibly roast seagull wouldn't taste conspicuously worse than anything that they might land). But in fact, and slightly disappointingly, the car's occupants looked to have rolled up with a whole lot of scraps and crumbs to drop. And yes, it was all just as raw and grey as it looked ...
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