For now, there seemed to be an unspoken truce between the Crow clan and the Sea Gull. For the moment there was a stillness in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman slept thru it all.
Truce
Chili
The bird seed was laced with chili pepper. Silvester was sorry after the first taste. What had the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa come to? the Face of Everyman was secretly pleased. Maybe the raccoons would forage somewhere else.
Closed
The poster child for cripples arrived at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Clinc for his routine physical therapy. the Face of Everyman explained that the unit was closed till further notice due to lack of funds.
Lunch
Boswell dunked an impressive mouthful of French fries into the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. It horrified the Face of Everyman as rotting foodstuff befouled the pristine waters.
Sleepwalking?
At a quarter past Two AM Boots crept into the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. She knew that she was trespassing. If the Face of Everyman awoke and challenged her, she would say that she must be sleep-walking.
Body?
Bradshaw nearly feinted when he saw a cadaver beneath the waters of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman assured him that it was no one he knew, and it would be removed Monday or Tuesday at the latest.
Blue Ribbon?
the Face of Everyman entered another photo in the monthly contest held at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. This one he titled: “March contrails over weathered owl box.” He crossed his fingers; hoping for at least a Blue Ribbon.
Warm-front
the Face of Everyman held his breath, was this scrawny little bird the first American Goldfinch to return to the summer breeding grounds? It turned out that he and a handful of others had ridden a fast-moving Warm Front North. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was an excellent place to ride out the impending storm.
The Clan
Family get togethers were an impromptu event; prompted mostly by the nature and bounty of food offered by the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman was pleased he could oblige a growing family.
Not-Our-Cat
The last known sighting of Not-Our-Cat, AKA Mr. Pickles. He has not been seen for two days. The Crows are silent as to his where abouts. The songbirds fear foul play. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa will not be the same without him. the Face of Everyman was sure he would show up soon.
torkelsbirds 