Tuesday, November 4, 2025

Update and Story: Birds Of A Feather (David C. Russell, Author

Hello Grafted In Readers,

Today is a breezy November 4, 2025 in my corner of blog land.

As you noticed from the subject, this post will feature a short story of mine titled, Birds Of A Feather. The setting is a beachfront that goes out into a strait called The St. Clair River here in lower SE Michigan. The characters are the birds who share this property with the public.

One note, reference is made to the United States Government shutdown, which will hopefully be a thing of the past long before Springtime. We have self-centered public officials from both parties here in the U.S., in my opinion. 


Feel free to share this story and blog with your friends and acquaintances.

Comments welcome, but do enjoy this little escape from the pings and pongs of life.


Birds of a Feather

David C. Russell

 

 

The 50-mile bridge-to-bay trail was active Memorial Day Weekend.  Winter passed. This spring day offered mostly sunny skies, gentle breeze, a sense of refresh and hopefulness was significant. Passage of the long federal government shutdown also added to the newness experienced across humanity.  extended hours of daylight, and collective longing for the outdoors and its social amenities were now in reach. This 72-hour Holiday weekend had come to be regarded ‘first unofficial weekend of Summer’ across the nation.

This hiking and biking trail’s length has extended South from New Baltimore north to Lakeport State Park.

 

Meantime, a flock of seagulls returned some weeks ago from winter trips afar to Chrysler Beach in the medium-size town, Marysville, Michigan. The beachfront had shown stirred wakefulness as the young frolicked in the shallows of the St. Clair River, walkers with or without canine companions strolled the beach front, picnicers brought eats from home or the nearby deli, sandwich shop, or food truck.

A handful of gulls had gathered by the boat dock to engage in bird chatter the Friday before Memorial Day. “We had a good Winter, but the next four months will be the best,” said Mrs. Wing, chairperson of the foraging group.

“I got one complaint though about this beach,” Hazel Preen began, “This place has become way too friendly for dogs. It makes foraging a challenge having them bitches here,” she said.

“Does anything make you happy?” cawed Mr. Crowstead?

“Yeah, good fresh water instead of infested water mixed with waste product by animal life including human.”

Ms. Robin added, “The fresh water is the best, especially after a worm appetizer or group sing-and-chirp.”

“I’ll talk to King Charles of the Spaniel group about the increase in dogs at this beach. He’s pretty shrewd and can strike a diplomatic deal,” said 20-year-old Chirp Friendly. He was Ambassador representing Gull government.

 

So, one mid-summer afternoon, King Charles had wakened from his afternoon nap to see Chirp nearing. The two discussed the seagulls concerns about being overrun by dogs at the beach.

“I like your thoughtful proposal, Chirp. Establishment of a program where certain breeds are allowed on specific days. Violators will become sick from a smart chemical we can put out here,” King Charles stated.

“Is the agent only harmful to breeds not allowed?” Chirp asked.

“Yes. It’s a smart agent designed to work according to public policy. It cannot be tampered with nor altered by some mischievous evil-doer,” Charles said. Both exchanged expressions that communicated general agreement to the proposal.

“Can this be implemented soon?” Chirp asked.

“Probably after this weekend, around the middle of next week,” stated Charles.

Chirp reported the summation of his conversation to the group the following morning. The gulls enjoyed a community bug feast. The gourmet food-fair included crickets, grasshoppers, and June bugs.

“Glad you were able to negotiate something, Chirp. Bet your parents were proud as hell of you,” said Turkey Trotter, most senior citizen of the beachfront population.

“I think this is a horrible deal,” began Mrs. Preen. “I like certain types of dogs and not others. The small, short, yappy brats are okay, but the Retrievers, Brittany Hounds, and Terriers ruffle my feathers.”

“Mrs. Preen, aren’t you ever happy?” chimed in Turkey Trotter. She recalled this same question verbatim from earlier. Her response was a string of gull expletives mingled with character defamation.

   A young lad watching from the shoreline turned about. From his satchel - he withdrew a small handful of oyster crackers and tossed them toward the gull gathering. Mrs. Preen responded with eager thanks!

Noticing the exchange, Turkey Trotter concluded that moments of happiness are possible for even the grouchy, irascible, snappy forward fowl.

As the summer months passed, the new regulations took effect. The sector of humanity bent on testing the regulations were soon convinced by resultant behavior that conformity was in everyone’s best interest. The public property appeared more clean and less disorganized with the new regulations in place. Turkey Trotter observed as Labor Day approached, “Mrs. Preen, you’re smiling more these days. What changed?”

“People finally started to take my recommendations seriously,” she chirped.

 

 

End



Until next visit, the Lord bless and keep all of us,

Moreover, Thanks to our Military for ongoing service, Happy Thanksgiving, and to Christian/Catholics, happy start to your season of Advent. See you back here in a few weeks!


David C. Russell, Author

Mellow Rock

 

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