While Tasha and I are sitting and talking at the Paris Bakery an old woman with a frozen expression and a shuffling gate stuck her hands into our food basket to remove crumbs of bread.

What , I say to her, What are you doing.
And she mumbles, burrs.
Burrs?
birds, feed the birds.

So we let her finish picking through our left overs to take the crusts of bread. ummmm

The baby herons are out growing their nests down the street.