We call him Fudgie

Oh no!  it’s the gull chick season again! Just look what I found under the car  a couple of hours ago. I christened him Fudgie. I think that was a mistake.


The gulls nest on our chimneys every year despite our best efforts with metal spikes and toy pop-guns. The year before last was particularly horrendous when first one chick fell into the garden, then another on to our lower roof. All summer long, we endured a state of inter-species warfare. The parent gulls dive-bombed us every time we ventured outside, and we took to going out in twos, brandishing brooms and umbrellas.  The cats were terrified and I had to keep smelly litter trays inside..

But just look at his brave little face, and his little fluffy bits, still wet from where he fell out of the egg.  I feel so mean at being nasty to his mum and dad. (Not that they notice!)

About throughstones

I am primarily a visual artist, living on the North Devon coast, a beautiful semi-rural area in South West England. I am interested in full engagement with 'place' and the eternal movement of life - particularly as it relates to what we call 'the natural environment'.
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2 Responses to We call him Fudgie

  1. flandrumhill says:

    Linda what an awesome photo!!! He looks so poofy and fluffy. His feet don’t seem to match his outfit!


    • I like that – his feet don’t seem to match his outfit! Needless to say, he was nowhere to be seen the following day. At least it has spared us the dive-bombing..


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