I spoke tonight before the bar-b-que was ready with a white and grey gull of considerable beauty.
Brawk, Brawk, Brawk, says he (or was it she)
Brawk, Brawk, Brawk, says I
This went on for some time - sometimes two, sometimes three Brawks. It always kept a good 12 paces from me - if I moved 3 paces left, it followed, if I moved right, it receded.
Now the bar-b-que was getting ready - and it was chicken - not suitable fare for a gull - a sort of cannibalism. But such is the smell that it was very attracted.
But by the time I had put the chicken on the grill and had gone inside to fetch various things, this gull had decided that the hot marinade from the microwave was too good a smell to pass up.
We danced at the distance of 12 paces a bit - but if I moved into the house, it came closer to the hot grill - Brawk, I said - Hot Hot - as if to a child. But to no avail. The bird would not understand my words.
I didn't hear a sound - but it didn't stay very long on top of the bar-b-q.
And it did return a few minutes later - apparently none the worse for stepping on such heat.
Eventually off it flew - hopefully without too many blisters to tend. (You can sure see that the railings need painting - they are due to be replaced in a few weeks - so never to be painted again.)
Friday, July 31, 2009
Posted by Bob MacDonald at 7:08 PM