It’s Never Just a Seagull
“Oh, it’s just a seagull.”
I don’t like that I have said this before. So I looked into seagulls. I don’t think I am going to say it again.
These birds are smart. For example: Say you had to get some worms out of the ground. I bet you would start digging, you silly primate. How about this. Mimic the sound of rain on the ground by tippy tapping your feet. Didn’t think of that, did you? Seagulls did. They organize in a Raindance that convinces the worms to come to them. What? Yeah. Seagulls. That’s what.
Seagulls can drink fresh water. That’s not that impressive until you consider that they can also drink Seawater, because of their eyes. Well, not really the eyes, but little glands directly above their eyes that flush the salt out of their systems through special openings in their bills. WHAT? Yeah. Seagulls.
The next time I confuse one for a bald eagle before I give way to disappointment, I plan to consider the lives of these amazing birds. I had no idea they mated for life, with far lower divorce rates than humans. I didn’t know they were attentive and caring parents- they even have a sort of nursery, with a few adults assigned to watch as the chicks play and learn vital life skills. When you look at a seagull, you are looking at a member of a community.
They have fascinating bodies. They are one of a small number of birds with eyes that can move in their sockets. They have special claws on their legs that allow them to perch on high ledges without falling off. They are expert fliers- complete control over thermals, climbs, dives, sharp direction changes- they can hover motionless in the wind, using their amazing vision to study their prey.
They develop and pass on complex hunting methods, like following tractors to loot the exposed earth behind them, dropping mollusks on sharp rocks, and antagonizing larger birds of prey into dropping their catch. They communicate these skills using a complex language comprised of body movements and vocalizations.
They can be brutal, too, like everything in nature. That’s the thing about looking deeply into the things I usually ignore. I often find out some things I’m not sure I would have liked to know. But that’s part of what I love about nature. It draws you in with brilliant scenes of loveliness and then hits you with some horror. This makes it so that only way to enjoy it is to surrender to it, and in doing so we learn how to accept the unacceptable. It is beautiful, yes. It is cruel, yes. That’s not a contradiction. That’s life.
It can be uncomfortable to know that seagulls have been observed ripping the flesh off of surfacing whales, or that sometimes those defensive flocks end up drowning the intruders in the ocean, or that they’re known to engage in cannibalism of their young when low on food (often due to human trawling cycles). But that discomfort is part of the incredible, beautiful mess the stars made when they belched out their innards all those light years ago. And so are you, you beautiful, silly primate. All of you deserves to be accepted and studied, every uncomfortable and beautiful part. So get to it.