Nicolas Demers

They’re definitely on their own now. Since late last week, none of the juveniles have touched down on the roof for more than a few minutes, and haven’t even been fed by their parents. At least as far as I could see. Even the runt I worried about so much is flying like a pro, its flight strong, its gliding smooth as silk. It’s such a joy to watch them go after seeing them grow up. Funny to think just a couple of months ago they were still downy little chicks with useless wings and ravenous stomachs. In a few weeks I won’t even be able to tell them from the adults: today I noticed the tips of their wings are already turning grey.

How far will they wander, though? Their ‘hood currently ranges over several city blocks, but how much will it change in their lifetime? I’m not clear on what “territory” might mean to a seagull when they’re not actually nesting. I guess it’s probably just a hunting/feeding range, overlapping with that of other seagulls, expanding or contracting depending on how much competition they face. But on the whole (I’m totally guessing here), probably not moving too much from generation to generation. Which means these gulls’ ancestors might have been around this area since before Europeans came along. Even before First Nations people–though I’m thinking not long before, what with Ice Ages and all.

Circle of Life, people. Circle of Life.

Holy cow, it’s flying!

And not just little Kitty Hawk laps around the roof, but soaring beautifully, higher even than my floor. It’s still got a lot to learn–it’s flapping too much, using up too much energy, and when it does try to glide its wings are all twitchy and hesitant; also, the landings need work–but damn that’s impressive. Just a week ago it was confined to the rooftop, and now… the sky’s the limit.

Its siblings aren’t doing so well, though. One is a pretty fair flyer, able to fly for short stretches but not getting much lift. That’s okay, it just needs a little bit more time. It’s the last one, the runt, that has me really worried. I was at an off-site training session all day yesterday, but my coworker (who’s almost as interested in these critters as I am) told me it got stuck on a lower, adjoining roof since yesterday, and couldn’t get back up. It’s only about a yard up, but that’s more than the little guy can manage. And this morning, it looked in bad shape; its wing feathers looked all scraggly, its balance was bad, it just didn’t seem to have a lot of energy. Had it even been eating and drinking? Were the parents feeding it?

Turns out, yes they are. So it won’t starve just yet. But I’m wondering how long the adults will keep feeding their chicks. Another co-worker opined that now the juveniles would follow the parents on the hunt, to learn the tricks of the trade. Chicks #1 and 2 should be okay. But #3 is far behind its sibs, and may not be able to take care of itself once the parents decide to cut them off.

I wish them all luck, because they’ll need it. They’ve had it pretty easy so far, but now they’ll have to compete with a whole generation of hungry juveniles. It’s a gull-eat-gull world.

Hey, I haven’t blogged about seagulls in a while, have I?

I was off for the first week of July. When I came back on the 9^th, I found the nest on the cathedral tower had ben abandoned. My theory—shared by my neighbour, who’d also been keeping an eye on the birdies—was that the metal surface on which the nest was built just got too hot, and the chicks cooked. (Yeah, it’s not always survival of the fittest. Sometimes it comes down to dumb luck.) A gull came by every now and then for a week or so… was it a parent? Do they remember their babies, and grieve? Come to think of it, I’m glad I wasn’t there to see it.

The family at 650 Richards is doing great, though. Huey, Louie and Dewey (or should that be Athos, Porthos and Aramis? Gaspar, Melchior and Balthazar?) have a whole roof to explore, with a good mix of sun and shade provided by the chimney and the surrounding buildings. For example, at this time of year our own building’s shadow falls on that roof between 10AM and a little past noon. For most of the afternoon, though, there’s no shade but the chimney, and that’s where they spend their time. Which just supports the “cooking on a hot metal surface” theory. It looks like seagull chicks are a lot more sensitive to heat than cold and rain: they’ll generally avoid direct sunlight, but wet weather doesn’t seem to bother them much.

I’ve had the pleasure of seeing the adults feeding them. This one time a couple weeks ago, the mommy/daddy just spit up a glistening chunk of half-digested fish half the size of the baby’s head, which the little darling just scarfed right down. Yummy! I noted that the other two didn’t pester the adult for food that time. And later, I noticed one of them was quite a bit smaller than the others. Being polite doesn’t pay in a gull’s world! The runt kept its baby colours (light brown with darker brown spots) for longer too, while its siblings grew a nicer light grey and white coat (now followed by plain medium brown feathers on their wings). Though as of now their heads are still spotted brown.

The chicks are big now, as big as crows. In the early days, there’d always be one parent standing guard nearby while another hunted, but now the chicks are mostly left alone. That’s okay, I’m sure they can take care of themselves now, and the parents must be working full time to feed their hungry maws. And holy shit, their wings have gotten huge in the last few days! They almost have adult proportions. Still can’t fly, though: the best they can do is a flapping run. I guess their muscles are still too weak, or their flight feathers still haven’t grown in.

But ah, my babies are growing up. Soon, I expect the parents will come by less and less and they’ll start fishing for themselves. And will they remember their nursery? Maybe one of them will build another nest on the same spot next year, and complete the circle of life. Or they’ll get eaten by a bald eagle. That’s another circle.

And I hope they stay away from the bell towers. Those places are deathtraps.