During the eclipse, the birds went silent.
On the sidewalk are / heat and gum-turned-tar / and enough pigeons to slow you down.
The frayed threads of her blouse unravel and twist into feathers that coat her flailing arms until they become wings. Her calloused toes transform into gleaming talons that slice through her secondhand shoes.
In early June, The Ubyssey covered Music Waste's 30th anniversary. It's one thing to capture a moment with words and another to hold it in a photo and at Music Waste, you have to see it to understand the festival's energy.
Even now in Vancouver, UBC is home to the gulls. They perch themselves outside of the Nest, eating student leftovers from the turf — competing with the racoons — then ascend through the wind towards the ocean. I find so much comfort in knowing that they are everywhere.
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