Henrietta Dubb's Diary - 19
Pacific Gull
This year, for some reason, she is
alone, that is if she is a she. Usually there has been the two of them.
Winging it together along the 2
kilometer bight, back and forth at a leisurely pace. Slow and deliberate, never
flustered apparently and seemingly never in a hurry.
This part of the coast has
been their bedroom, their love nest. Certainly they walk up and down the
sand surveying the breaking the waves beneathe their feet as if it is their own
living room.
Which it is, I suppose. But, I
wonder, where could their nest be?
My bird book tells me December to
January is nesting time. So why is this one alone? What has changed?
As she stands there looking out to
sea, other birds come close, but not too close. They arrive in groups, seagulls
and terns. The occasional shearwater or albatross. (It seems now that I have
often mistaken young Pacific Gulls for albatrosses.)
But as the Pacific Gull makes her
occasional move, so also these intruders make theirs. They politely
step back or jump together into the air, re-alighting at the water's
edge ten metres down the sand. In their deference they appear to give
respect to this most noble neighbour.
But this year, for some reason,
she is alone.
It is three weeks now that I have
seen her there, looking out to sea, waiting for her companion to arrive.
April 2004
© Henrietta Dubb's Diary, is written and published by
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