Many months ago I put out a piece of food on the deck that I knew was of a size to attract BIG birds but was just too lazy unthinking to break it up into smaller pieces for the frequent (smaller) visitors to the feeders.
This guy showed up. (If it is a gal, I beg her pardon.)
He squawked and ate and squawked and ate whatever it was (seems to me it was a stale bagel) and so, of course, all his buddies showed up as well. I am a five minute drive from the ocean on all three sides as the crow seagull flies (being on the bottom tip of Vancouver Island) but I swear, when the "wow! wow! food! bagel!!!" squawk goes out, seagulls who have been leisurely on the beach in Oak Bay or Fairfield or the Inner Harbour downtown hear it and zoom over to Fernwood.
Zillions Many seagulls on and around and over (I need NOT explain the perils of this, I am sure) my deck is an event that greatly startles me, the neighbours, the neighbourhood cats, the neighbourhood chickens. When I am thinking properly I avoid it.
The rest of the crowd that showed up for that bagel so long ago have given up coming back: some did persist for a time, arriving daily or whenever I was on the deck trying to eat something. A mother learns the skill of hiding a treat in her hand should a child suddenly appear and say, "Hey, are you eating something? Then how come you're chewing? Oh, okay." Seagulls can see through hands!
This guy continues to return on a regular basis. Today he was right outside the glass door and I had a fright when I walked into the kitchen and saw him peering in.* He flew onto the railing and tried his 'poor me' pecking at the tiny seeds on the railing. I finally opened the door and shoo'ed him away because the sparrows and finches will not come near another bird to whom they are knee-high. Can't say I blame them.
He may or may not have done an immediate return; I left the kitchen. The sight of him picking at the rope that ties one of the bamboo feeder holders to the railing gets me thinking he - likely she! - is nesting and needs some binding material and I have a so much natural fibre in my stash.......but I am sure putting out strings will result in more squawking and more buddies.......
* There is always the fear, when living on one's own, that should one suddenly drop dead from being startled by, oh, say a gull at the door, or stepping on something squishy in the night in one's bare feet and thinking it is a huge spider (instead of the grape one dropped at supper and could not find), or having a skein of wool suddenly and inexplicably slither down from the basket where it was nestling, there is always the fear of not being able to explain the interesting reason for the sudden demise.
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