Murders of Crows

The rest of the day wasn’t half bad either. We laid around reading until about 10am when we got up and I made some steak and egg sandwiches with the most wonderful toasted brioche rolls I bought at the famers market in Seattle. I contemplated going down to the harbor to rent some kayaks but got seduced by the relaxation.



We did venture into Eastsound where sat on the water and ate a lunch of questionable provenance. I guess this part of the island is known for its crows and we were constantly circled by the ominiously named “murder” of crows through lunch. After lunch we picked up more provisions (there is nothing on our harbor) and took the long route home over Crow Valley Road. The island has obvious agrigrarian roots and much of the interior valley land is still employed. There are sheep, goats, and horses all over the place and it feels primordial like Muir Woods.

We got back, took a nap, and have been sitting out on our little front deck drinking wine and reading for a few hours. I tried to sneak up on the donkeys to scare them into braying but had no luck. I’m not sure whether the owner wants us over there but I’m certain he doesn’t want anyone harassing the donkeys, especially the one that’s wound too tight.