(Introductory note: Chincoteague, VA, is full of black-headed gulls that sound just like laughing gulls but have the black bills of other kinds of gulls [Bonaparte’s or Franklin’s]. I’m going to call them laughing gulls anyway, though.)
The laughing gulls in Chincoteague are everywhere, on gas stations and banks and people’s roofs, cawing with what sounds like mirth every morning—and whenever else they feel like it.
There are plenty of other kinds of gulls in the area, too, especially on the beach, but none were as prevalent in town as the laughing gulls, and so perhaps these small gulls felt the local piers were their exclusive territory. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, after all.
Whatever the reason, when a large herring gull landed on a post in prime laughing-gull territory, the little black-headed bantams took offense, and one in particular took it upon his- or herself to teach the herring gull a lesson in courtesy by repeatedly dive-bombing the offender.
The herring gull refused to give up its perch, but the dive-bombing ruffled it so much that its location couldn’t have been all that comfortable: it kept looking over its shoulder, waiting for the next attack.
Since I watched this while we were waiting for our sandwiches at a take-out place, I don’t know whether the issue was ever resolved in either gull’s favor. Maybe the laughing gull finally gave up; maybe the herring gull finally gave in.
Maybe the whole thing was a ploy designed so that a third gull could steal people’s sandwiches. I’m not certain, but I bet stranger things have happened.
The laughing gulls in Chincoteague are everywhere, on gas stations and banks and people’s roofs, cawing with what sounds like mirth every morning—and whenever else they feel like it.
There are plenty of other kinds of gulls in the area, too, especially on the beach, but none were as prevalent in town as the laughing gulls, and so perhaps these small gulls felt the local piers were their exclusive territory. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, after all.
Whatever the reason, when a large herring gull landed on a post in prime laughing-gull territory, the little black-headed bantams took offense, and one in particular took it upon his- or herself to teach the herring gull a lesson in courtesy by repeatedly dive-bombing the offender.
The herring gull refused to give up its perch, but the dive-bombing ruffled it so much that its location couldn’t have been all that comfortable: it kept looking over its shoulder, waiting for the next attack.
Since I watched this while we were waiting for our sandwiches at a take-out place, I don’t know whether the issue was ever resolved in either gull’s favor. Maybe the laughing gull finally gave up; maybe the herring gull finally gave in.
Maybe the whole thing was a ploy designed so that a third gull could steal people’s sandwiches. I’m not certain, but I bet stranger things have happened.
{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}
1 comment:
This had me laughing! The gull action looks more interesting than the sandwich.
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