Mozzarella Witches

Spent Sunday in Salem, Mass. The sun was shining, the art exhibition on Joseph Cornell was enthralling, the Goths were thriving, and the overabundance of commericalized history was, well, overwhelming. And quite cheesy, in a Mozzarella kind of way. We did, however, find an indie coffee shop and drink my chai soy latte I did. We followed a red line to a secluded bench by the waterfront and watched seagulls pick up stones, fly high in the air to drop it down upon the rocks, and then zoom down to unearth their tasty mussel morsel. Either that or they were dropping the clam upon the rocks; it was hard to tell. Clever.