Seagull News

I Don’t Speak Gull

In air, right at me a seagull in a hurry What news? I wonder

I don’t think he looked to see where he was going.

A good thing about gulls (and most birds, come to think of it): you can tell the boys from the girls, and this was definitely a boy — a gull-boy in a gull-hurry. So eager to share the news that he was no longer paying much attention to some vital coordinates such as altitude and locations of human heads. So, already thinking of who to tell and what to say, he flew within a foot of knitted cap, at the most two (and, oh boy, they are surprisingly large this up close — especially on spread wings: close to a five-foot span, I’d say), I could feel the air turbulence fanned by wings, hell, I could almost feel the wings themselves.

I wonder if he was as surprised at this near collision as I was. I gather he might have been because as I turned around to wonder at him, he banked and rose steeply, like feathered, embarrassed smoke — close one, that.

What news? I wondered. What, for a gull, could be this important? Almost-running-into-Ulf-Wolf important.

Since I don’t speak Gull, I couldn’t ask, so it shall remain a mystery.

But man, that wingspan.

© Wolfstuff