On a hillside close to our new place, Richard and I saw hundreds of seagulls. They hang out on the hillside every afternoon, then swoop off to wheel through the river valley. It's like The Birds.
Being seagulls, they can't get along with each other ("Mine! Mine! Mine!") but seem to coexist peacefully with the handful of pigeons that dare creep onto to their turf (though the gulls are a little embarrassed about this, I think). So I suppose I'll be saving bits of bread for the little buggers. In Ontario I used to go to the beach with bread for the seagulls sometimes, and there was this really pathetic one I called "Itchy Little Chubby Guy". He always had feathers sticking up in weird places, had nervous tics (and/or lice or something), and squawked so loudly and badly he even scared the other seagulls. Jonathan Livingston he was not. My grandparents actually had a one-legged seagull on their lawn for several years in a row - perhaps a relative of Itchy?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
The gulls in the field across the highway let the ducks walk around with them.
Grandma and Grandpa quit feeding the gulls this year, because of Shadow (good grief!). One-leg was still there last year though. I never realized that gulls lived that long.
Post a Comment