Potpourri for a Tuesday

A kestrel? Where?

On Luna Island last week, a bluejay-sized bird flew past into a tree just above. It flashed some white and then landed in a tree. It looked odd. I tried to take a phone photo and failed but it was definitely a kestrel. We have had a merlin in our yard, and have seen bald eagles in the gorge but, until now, never a kestrel.

The photo is from the NYPA Wildlife Festival.

Walgreens

I headed to Walgreens to pick up a script recently. The line was 10 deep. Since RiteAid closed, that is a regular problem. I was already having a slow day so I decided to hang.

No one said a word about my bike being in the store and I didn’t feel like locking it up.

I feel badly for the people working there and the customers because it is a boring place to wait in line – not as bad as the DMV but still rotten. (I know, count my blessings).

New Scoreboard

There is a news scoreboard going into place at Sal Maglie Stadium. Work is also progressing on Tajma Dog Shelter, the best dog shelter ever. Goose Island is getting fixed. Metal roofing is in place on Hyde Park shelters and the hockey rink is still open.

The start of a novel

It was a weekday at Whirlpool State Park, 2:30 p.m. My guests had to be at the airport by 3:35 p.m.

Missing a flight is not something for which I ever want to be responsible.

A 60-ish couple approached. They were clad in jeans and flannel shirts, stinking of cigarettes and whiskey.

“Are you a ranger? Do you work here? We found this on a picnic table over there” the woman said.

She handed me a phone, a tattered utility bill envelope, and a tri-folded paper scribbled with multi-colored notes.

The notes were concerning. The only thing I remember was “porn is sex trafficking.” “Abuse is not acceptable.” “Love is the answer.”

I walked away.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have these guests who need to be back to the airport. Please call 911.”

I will never know how Steven King writes the rest of that novel or what happened to the troubled soul who left her phone. I also wonder "Clarice, have the lambs stopped crying?"