A walk by a dried lake

It is a weekend of clouds. A relief in many months. A week ago, the dam burst. I should have expected the loss of water. There is water in some spots just a surface of it. There are small fish, dried and slaked in mud. A bicycle. Many crate skeletons and tires.
When I started the walk, I was torn between two choices - one of taking the routine walk which would bring back the routine of months ago and the other of going east. In the east direction, there has been some development- a mall. Long time ago, I couldnt take that path as there was no path. On the northern side too, new condominiums have come up, the lake and park have been built on that side too. I wasnt sure if the northern and southern side were connected. Between these two banks there is a disconnected bank. So we need two connections. To find out I have to walk ahead. I havent done that in a while. Exploring by walk.
First section SE. There are about 10 turkey vultures in air and on land. One seems to be bothering another. I can see their necks red. When they soar, the white of their wings. I wished to sit on the bank steps, in their line of sight but police cordons prevented it. As I kept walking I saw a great blue heron still with its right foot lifted at an angle and that can only mean one thing, it has found a prey. Sure enough, its bill sticks out of a water with a fish in it. I go as far as the path leads me to a 'no trespassing' sign. I trace the steps back and cross the bridge.
Second section NE. I have never been this side. As I walk ahead, there is a small dog with bark. The owner, dog and I are in a triangle. I freeze to let the distance between them reduce. There are a set of high chairs around a table. I could sit here another time with a book. I pass another bridge. Then come viewing areas of ponds with yellow water lilies and a strict instruction to stay on the path. I almost reach curry road. Time to turn around. kill deers. Sandpipers. Snowy egrets. Doves. Grackles. House Finches.
Once I reach the main bridge, I am in a familiar terrain. While crossing by the marina, I find a small silver fish partly hanging from a railing. In the front part only the eye ring remains like a snail. Its strange that the wind did not lodge it down. I think of Tisdale's essay of ' The sutra of maggits and blowflies' and find a sticky looking secretion by the side which would have been the adhesive. What led the bird leave its food in haste?
Next week I want to head west.
A kid looks at the countdown number of the traffic and says ' Run, we have only 3 min' to his parents.
Yesterday two kids walking on each side of a parent are running with their little feet, hands held, to make the light. A girl and a kid who just fell are jumping that they are close to mojo yogurt and that they can have icecream.