They tumbled out of their van, exuberance and innocence written on their faces—a preteen girl and her younger brother, followed by an older gentleman.
“Grandpa, where’s the bread for the birds?”
I looked up from my writing and looked at them, then at my teen son fishing from the pier.
The children captured the attention of all around with their innocent laughter and enthusiasm.
The two removed the day-old bread from its wrapper and passed it between them. They tore off tiny bits and tossed them with abandon to the birds quickly gathering at the pier.
Before long, a mixed flock of fowl gathered near them, drawing …