The gulls, crying in this early season at the lake, sound like cars crashing into soft bluffs of clay. My love for birds runs deep. Gulls, though, are something of an exception. My love for them is conditional. For one thing, they make a lot of unnecessary noise.
And gulls are eaters of
garbage.
I recall gulls swarming the
parking lot and chasing windblown garbage at my high school. Hamburger wrappers and French fries were a particular
draw for them.
Of course, I am familiar with the
“miracle of the gulls,” where gulls are said to have saved the crops of early Mormon
settlers in Utah from a swarm of plant-raiding insects. Just the same, I am rather all about me in
this.
A better bird would sing a
catchy song and take seeds from the palm of my hand.
—Mitchell Hegman
No comments:
Post a Comment