I am now resident at the seaside. I no longer need an alarm. At 6am the gulls, sat on nearby roofs, start making a hell of a noise. What do you call gull song? For certain, there are screams and its all high pitched. I see the Herring gull sitting on the tiles, an elegant and large bird and master of flight. However, as it opens its beak the elegance falls away as this gutteral noise emanates. It reminds me of the colourful duck contrasted to its rather pathetic quack. But this gull noise is a different class altogether. It is avian juvenility with a touch of aggression. That aggression is exemplified by the theft of pasties and battered fish. However, this bird is struggling and we need to foster it and support our seaside gulls.

The name

These birds must not be called seagulls. They are just gulls, with no sea. In fact, I often saw far more gulls on the fields of the Peak District than I see along this coast. However, those were black-headed gulls and lesser black-backed gulls, worm lovers behind the plough. My gull neighbours hijack our houses early in the morning, disappear, and then return each evening. They are much quieter in the evenings, often just sitting on rooftops. They poop on my windscreen and it is rather like scraping off cement. Whatever, it is a joy to have them about.

Seaside gulls

I suspect the gulls follow me about. We have just been to the household recycling centre and, you guessed it, there they were. Somebody dropped some sort of the food on the ground and down they swooped. I wish they could eat without all those raucous cries. Though wary, they obviously realise that humans are a source of food and constantly watch us. Were they the Neolithic scavengers that once fed on our dead bodies? That was a wonderful and very spiritual relationship. It was when we utilised sustainable and rather cheap funerals. The crematorium does that now but we pay a high price!