Thursday, January 1, 2026

A Lesson from a Sea Bird (Thank you, God)

 

While walking on the beach
I saw two gulls on this rock.
One was standing and casting
 its vision out over the sea.  
The other seemed to settle down
 as if to nest.  
No, that cannot be, I thought. 
This is a terrible place to raise a family. 
Too exposed, too cold,  
just too downright uncomfortable. 
If the egg actually hatched, 
how would the chick survive?
Sometimes they don't, I know, 
but if she was going to nest, 
why would she not go to the comfy trees 
that were just behind us, where a neighborly 
turkey vulture was waiting patiently
for the beach visitors to clear 
before feasting on an expired 
and well seasoned mola fish 
that had washed ashore.
That is a whole other mystery.
 I  took a picture of the gull,
a photograph that will not improve
one little bit my reputation
 as a photographer, 
 and we walked on.  
However, she has stayed 
in my mind and hopefully 
on that rock if that is really 
what she wants to do.
I have learned that gulls do indeed 
prefer to nest out in the open 
on rocks and exposed high ledges and such.  
 I think about her 
and wonder if she is ok,
and goodness, what about 
all this rain?  
Couldn't we build her a tasteful little gull hideaway?  
Okay, okay, I know
 they like to live life out in the open, 
But I swear if I knew someone 
in that small beach town 
I would call them and ask 
if  they could check on her, 
maybe I could even pay 
someone to keep watch,
 but then again 
this beach town has some
rather wealthy people 
who probably do not need my
two cents worth, and anyway 
there are a lot of gulls along the coast 
(I almost wrote our coast, 
but that seems presumptuous,
even tacky) so they seem
to have worked things out
and probably would prefer 
just to be left alone to tend 
to their own gull business.     
 
So  Holy One, you who care 
for the whole ocean as if it is yours, 
which, of course it is, thank you. 
I know we humans have kind of
made a mess of things but we 
do keep trying to stand upright 
and walk on our own two feet, 
just like we have been taught, 
and to use our brains 
for some good purpose. 
I would appreciate 
your tending 
to this gull and her beloved 
because now I have learned 
that gulls mate for life,
not hiding under some small tacky tent, 
but under your wide blue sky,
 and if left to themselves, 
can live a pretty long time.  
Holy One, I am grateful,
which is a nice way to 
start this year.  
I want this poem 
to have a happy ending, 
but I will never know.  
I do know you tend to things
in your own way which 
is usually a mystery to us; 
we are just not that far along 
that we can even understand 
that your happy ending 
just might be different enough
from anything we can conjure up 
just to keep ourselves comfortable
and death free.   
I will say, 
because I cannot help myself, 
that I really liked that
 turkey vulture, and I hope it was able 
to dine in peace on the mola fish
which looks to be a curious
creature, alive or deceased.  
What a neighborhood, Holy One.
What a blessing just to see a glimpse of it 
as we walked by.       
                

 




 image:  Stinson Beach, December 2025