A murder of crows are camping at the end of the driveway. I search the ditches for trash or a carcass, but I can’t find what they’re after. Falcons drift over the roadway, and the Island Explorer buses carry more bicycles than I thought. Couples nap under trees in Agamont Park, while toddlers shriek at the constant fountain. Seasonal workers walk straight lines to their jobs or lunches. We acknowledge each others’ exhaustion with small nods.