Slough is a city in the South of England that no-one seems to like much.

“Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn’t fit for humans now,” John Betjeman

It is pronounced like the sound you make when you cut off your finger. John Bunyan’s Slough of Despond in Pilgrim’s Progress does not sound very nice – wetland bog, sludge, mire, slime.

It is this meaning that has been exported to the U.S. Here it is pronounced slough as in slew. “But as he was ambitious I slew him.”

Anyway, James and I go for a Boxing day ramble to Elkhorn Slough. We break out the Zodiac and electric motor that have been maturing in the store room.

So much wildlife! Sea Otters, Sea Lions, Harbor Seals, so many birds that I am too idle to list.

Those who slew my Father, I drove into exile.
Then said they unto him, Say now Shibboleth: and he said Sibboleth: for he could not frame to pronounce it right. Then they took him, and slew him.
Marbled Godwit
Eared Grebe
Sea Otter wondering what Slough is really like.
Who knows who John Betjeman is now?
So the dead which he slew at his death were more than they which he slew in his life. 
Mummy Sea Otter hugs her baby
This is hardcore birdwatching stuff. Black Turnstones with Least Sandpipers.
Forster’s Tern

A wonderful day. We are weary and chilled. As we head out in the late afternoon, James checks, on his phone, Hamburger Restaurants further on down the road. He phones in our order, which we pick up 10 minutes later. This kind of stuff is a revelation to me.

I get a Cheeseburger with Bacon. We eat as we charge over the coastal mountains towards 280. It is the best thing I have ever eaten!

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