One of the minigulls has survived long enough to earn a name, and that name is Noisenberg.
The other, I haven’t seen in a while. It’s been a couple of weeks, now, since there’ve been two little gulls on the roof across from mine. That second one probably got eaten. There are eagles in the vicinity. They snack on gulls, here and there.
The remaining gullie brother’s been coming to my balcony almost every day, lately. I don’t want him becoming too tame. To that end, I feed him, and talk to him in a kind and indulgent manner, but when he comes too close, or pokes his head in the window, I shoo him. It wouldn’t do for him to become complacent around human beings. We can be worse than eagles, under the wrong circumstances. Loudenstein, I’m sure, is aware of this already. Noisenberg, who knows? What do gulls learn from their parents? And do they take it all to heart, or do they rebel? One thing Noisenberg has learned beautifully: that irritating alarm call. Gah-gah-gah. Gah-gah-gah. Gah-gah-gah. I could probably throw away my alarm clock. I get that every morning, first thing.
Bird tongue! Bird tongue! BIRD TONGUE! :-)
Much as I don’t want to tame this bird, I took pains to make it understand that the camera is harmless. Loudenstein flew away, the first few times I tried to photograph him. Noisenberg did not. I’d been pointing the lens at him daily, for a week, by the time I dropped the shutter on him. He barely reacted, when I did.
Here, Noisenberg was begging. Loudenstein was standing just outside the shot, ignoring him. Eventually, the begging subsided.
I’ve been hearing another bird lately, as well — that little wheep! bird, from last winter. It’s begun cropping up again, taunting me from the bushes on my morning walks. This winter, I’m determined to root it out and identify it. My bird list hasn’t had a new addition, in a while.
