Scary Seagull Season

It’s the time of year here when it’s scary seagull season. The eggs have hatched and babies are abundant on the rooftops. Last year I wrote about how the bird life around here seems to have taken a personal dislike to me. It’s not just the ‘Man and Boy’ statue on the harbour that gets covered in poop but also my head. It’s not a good look.

This year I’ve been more cautious when I go for my morning runs. I diverted from the usual warm up walk around the park a month or so ago. Now it’s a stroll around the back streets before I start jogging. It was all working out okay until last time when a gull on a clifftop decided that I was a threat, made the warning cack cack noise and started to swoop. Another route change is planned for a while where, in the main, I’ll be sheltered by trees. The RSPCA gives handy tips on how to avoid being attacked in scary seagull season. Sadly carrying an umbrella is not viable when you’re out for a run.

The gulls around here are good boys and girls compared to the ones in other seaside resorts in the South West. In the main, you can eat an ice cream or pasty without being dive bombed. The ones in St Ives are particularly menacing. They hunt in packs outside the food outlets. One will cause a distraction and then another of their party will snatch the grub from the person’s hand. I have a secret admiration for them. They are intelligent beasties.

There’s one that Tesco’s staff in Paignton, our neigbouring town have nicknamed Alfie. He shoplifts the pick and mix and crisps. Doritos seem to be one of his Follow the link here to watch him in action. I especially love his quick departure from the store after he’s committed his evil deed.

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