Lovely, Beth. The year we moved into this house we were adopted by a juvenile Herring Gull who used to come into the front garden and wait whilst I filled a bowl of water for him, which he used to bath in and drink from! No idea what sex they were really, but we called him Bob.
Lovely, Beth. The year we moved into this house we were adopted by a juvenile Herring Gull who used to come into the front garden and wait whilst I filled a bowl of water for him, which he used to bath in and drink from! No idea what sex they were really, but we called him Bob.
Well have named them Jonathan and Livingstone!
Very literary!
😁
Herring Gull Fledglings Live On My Roof
I prepare breakfast, hear them
practising their worm dance
on the kitchen roof, a soft shoe
shuffle like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire.
They squeal and chitter, beg for food,
plunge their heads into the tub of water
I left for them on the bathroom
window ledge.
Later, they will peer in through the glass,
tap on the panes, scuttle away
when they notice me watching.
A gull themed poem at last!