Gulls Gone Wild

The gulls are back.

My first summer in this apartment, I spent three months trying to convince the gull pair that this was not a good roof for raising a family. I was not successful. That winter, once the gulls had departed, I started feeding the local crows, hoping that they would defend the roof from the gulls. Instead, they disappeared once the gull pair arrived and then sheepishly returned in the autumn to see if I was still there.

Now the gulls are back again.  The gull pair returned in March, poking through the snowy roof looking for the remains of last year’s nest. April was spent in vigorous courtship displays.  Now, in May, they are nesting and extremely adamant that no, I can not peer into the nest to find out how many eggs there are.

Let’s introduce this year’s dramatis personae.

The Herring Gull Pair

A bonded couple with rather lacklustre nest-building skills, known for loud arguments and Olympic-level passive-aggressive strutting.

Formally monogamous. Now possibly in a throuple arrangement with a third, previously unintroduced gull.

Currently referred to as NestGull and GuardGull based on function, although they trade roles frequently and without warning.

The Unknown Third Gull

First spotted while the Gull Pair enthusiastically performed mating rituals in full view of my picture window. The third gull hovered nearby like a welcome voyeur.

 I had not thought the Gull Pair could do much to surprise me but a threesome was definitely not on my bingo card.

Now frequently spotted loitering near the nest. Behavior suggests either polyamory or an extraordinarily bold squatter.

Gary the Hooded Crow

Thuggish, brooding crow who quickly figured out that if he stared at me through the office window long enough,  I’d break down and come out with snacks.

Mated with Pippin, who understandably has better things to do during nesting season. I assume he’s taking the extra food to her and the crow kids, but for all I know, he’s selling it to the jackdaws for extra beer money.

Has recently decided, inexplicably, to hold his ground against the gulls, who are bigger, stronger and faster than he is.  When this goes badly, he caws loudly at me to come outside and intervene.

NotGary the Hooded Crow

Looks like Gary. Is not Gary. Is absolutely not friends with Gary.

Indentifiable because he actually hops around the terrace trying to find ways to interact with me, unlike Gary, who  sits stoicly on the rail and stares until I crack.

Usually keeps to the far side of the terrace to avoid Gary, who attacks on sight.

Astra (they/them)

Gary’s friend. Bravest of the hooded crows but will not make eye contact.

Not pictured because they haven’t been seen since the gulls took over the roof. Possibly nesting. Possibly just has better judgement than Gary.

The Jackdaw Chorus

A chorus of sleek, smaller corvids observing everything like judgemental extras in a Greek tragedy.

Often seen clustering near the gull’s nest, trying to get a peek. The gulls are oddly unbothered by this.  Their fury is reserved for the crows, who mostly remain on my side of the roof hoping for snacks.

I suspect this will end in tears. Possibly mine.

Last summer, I wanted to send updates almost every day but quickly decided that that would be overwhelming.  (For you, I mean. For the mailing list. I was already overwhelmed.) By the time I got to writing about the escapades of Huey, Dewey and Louis, I had thousands of words of notes and hundreds of photographs and it took me over six weeks to get through it all and create a coherent narrative. I’m not saying I have regrets but I’d rather not lose two months to writing non-publishable war reports about gull front lines. So the new plan is to send frequent updates, in addition to my monthly essay, as a much less formal and hopefully mostly silly thing.

I’m expecting the first egg to hatch any day now, if the jackdaws don’t get there first. More updates to come.