Acrobats of the Sea

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. In front of us is empty sky and sea; not a gull in sight. 

Suddenly I spot one. He’s found some sort of candy lolly and is tugging at it frantically. He looks at me through steely yellow eyes, then peevishly  flies up to the embankment where he continues to tackle his unhealthy treat. It makes an interesting capture, worthy of my extra, but not what I am looking for today. 

We walk the full length of the prom, and but for the occasional distant solo gull and a trio perched on chimney pots  - a nice enough image I suppose - all avian life has vanished. Still flushed with his train-spotting success,  G tries to be helpful, spotting a large bird perched on a roof. It's an owl sculpture, I explain, trying not to seem ungrateful. 

Then, just as we are heading back, something happens. If there is some signal, we don’t see or hear it, but suddenly the sky is full of herring gulls flying towards one specific area just off the sea wall. We’ve witnessed this before, but failed to recognise it’s time-specific; it occurs some 30 minutes after high tide, when retreating waves leave rich pickings waiting to be found.

Initially, the gathered throng float bobbing on the waves, looking out, anticipating. Then, as if a flag’s been raised, they’re up, flying around, diving down, fighting to be first. 

It’s not the hunting and the foraging that interests me. It’s the flight. These birds are acrobats of the air, riding the thermals and the wind, adjusting the length and angle of their elegant wings almost imperceptibly, expert aviators, masters of their element. 

Watching the flight of seagulls is mesmerising, almost spiritual. What they are doing should really not be possible - but, of course, it is. Perhaps these gulls ‘haven’t bothered to learn more that the simplest facts of flight - how to get from shore to food and back again'. 


But there again, maybe they are 'not bone and feather, but a perfect idea of freedom and flight, limited by nothing at all.’ 
Richard Bach, Jonathan Livingston Seagull