In the sea-winded zoo gorillas lean against the concrete limits of their habitat dreaming of rainforests. Their tall, sloped heads fill with the rightness of glistening leaves, of bird cries, beetles scuttling, lushness, vegetable darkness, the dank rot of litter. A neat, white gull settles by one pool, stands half asleep, struts on greenish webs, as the dark primates watch, lean on thick, lax knuckles. The gull lifts, wheels above them, banks in a gust, glides high, away. The big male turns his head, deep brows swarming with shadows.