Taming A Seagull, 2

 

Yesterday we acknowledged that there would be no more wild swims this year. 2 out of 3 of us cheered. 

We had developed a swim ritual over the years, so we knew what to expect from every single swim, every single day. It always began with the SconeLady going off for a 2 mile walk, then having cups of tea together, then all of us lurching upstairs to change for the inevitable torture session.

Our ritual had expanded now to include the very sweet and kind Swedish couple. But no! today there would be no sweet and kind Swedish couple. They would be packing. They would be getting the boys up. They would be having their breakfasts! And they would not be coming out to the harbour to train their seagull. 

So I was walking my lonely way toward Smeaton's Pier when I saw what I did not expect to see. The sweet and kind Swedish couple!

"Good morning!" said the husband, shocking me out of my reverie.

"Good morning!" said the beautiful lady. A grin made its quiet way onto my face, and then stayed there.

"No swim, today?" asked the smiling man.

"No, no swim," I answered. "They must all go home."

I heard a squeak, and looked down at their feet on the granite pavement. There stood a quiet and strangely well-trained seagull. 

Their seagull (honest!).

"Oh, there it is again!" I said, sounding almost friendly to it. The lady held out some morsel of interest toward the gull. It took it, then looked up again at the lady expectantly.

"I have not really liked sea gulls - in the past," I said hesitantly.

"Oh?" asked the lady.

I explained that our granddaughter had been scared by the sea gull who had dive-bombed her ice cream. 

"Oh, how awful for her!" she commiserated. "It all comes of having too much food on the Harbour.." This I knew to be true. You should just SEE the amount of consumption that goes on around this place. Ice creams, Cornish pasties, cheese-tomato baguettes, scones, and who knows what all else. Pizza too!

When it became time for them to leave for their breakfasts, I said, hopefully, "You'll be back next year!"

"Well, one can never really know what might happen," said she. But - I hope it will!" 

Then they went, climbing the stairs to their balcony flat overlooking my favorite 3 cottages on the sand. 

I glanced down at the seagull, as it watched them go.

The bench where a seagull learned.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady