GULL

I was on the Ferry heading across the frothy Halifax Harbour with my son. The Sun shone relentlessly, highlighting my left side - the cotton-balled sky no match for the hot lasers shooting out of its molten center. My son was on my right, engaged in an animated convo with a friend about their least favorite coolers.

As we neared our destination and slowed toward the sleepier Dartmouth pier, the boat rocked and a Gull swooped over a captive audience. Darkly feathered as though it had been singed by the very sun we baked beneath, it suddenly tucked its wings and quickly plummeted. We eyeballed its target - a heavenly feathered Gull twice his diameter. The snowy enemy cradled a fine find in his beak. A winsome fish about to slip right down into his little Gull gullet. Not so fast, cried his shadowy nemesis.

We Ferry folk watched on as battle ensued and the slippery fish was fiercely pursued. My son commented on the antagonist's darkened appearance and we chuckled concepts of Good vs. Evil. I asked which one is Good? We didn't have the answer.