Hunting Down Ice Formations and Finding a Hurt Seagull

Our younger son asked to borrow my phone yesterday after I told him to give me his word that he wouldn’t skate on thin ice, literally. He took a few videos to show me that the ice he was on was thick and safe, plus shots of some of the scenes he saw:

Here are some scenes I saw this afternoon:

Rock-hopping along the shore toward home, I came upon an odd sight. A seagull’s body was jutting out of a rock crevice. I looked closer and it was moving – breathing. I moved to the side, trying to figure out where its head was. It was jammed and curled under in the most unusual position.

I prepared to pick him up gently and put my gloves on in case his reaction was to snap at me in self-defense. He was so sweet as I put him in my arms. I couldn’t figure out at first glance what was wrong but I didn’t want to do a body scan. I just wanted to get him in a comfortable position and carry him against me, hoping he would feel more safe with me than he felt wedged into the rocks. His neck seemed a little loosey goosey, but he seemed to have some control of it as well. I walked him home and held him outside for another half-hour or so, wanting him to feel protected rather than vulnerable (my husband says I over-anthropomorphize but I don’t care). I directed our son to put several towels in a large cardboard box, and I set him gently inside. Wolf Hollow Wildlife Rehab advised that I close the box and place it in a quiet room and check back in an hour. At first he moved around, trying to get comfortable and dealing with the pain from whatever major trauma he endured. Twenty minutes later, he had been silent for awhile when my son checked in on him. He was still – no longer breathing.

Goodbye sweet seagull. May you fly the air currents of the great skies on the other side. How eager I was to be your friend for much longer here.