The outbreak of coronavirus has had a noticeable effect on wildlife throughout the world.
Humans are generally disgusting litter bugs, renowned for polluting the planet. Now that we have all been told to remain indoors, animals have thrived.
Seabirds have been spotted in the canals of Venice (sadly, reports of swans and dolphin sightings turned out to be a hoax). People living in major cities have told of a noticeable improvement in air pollution and being able to see for miles; whereas before lockdowns, smog clouded their now impressive views.
As any resident of Bath will tell you, for years the city has had a problem with gulls. They feed on the remains of takeaways, that people thoughtlessly drop onto the floor. Restaurants and other businesses in the catering trade, leave food-filled refuse sacks outside their premises. Despite efforts from the local council to secure such waste, the gulls find a way to access and gorge on the discarded leftovers.
Due to the current government-enforced lockdown, the vast array of Bath’s city centre restaurants, pubs and takeaways remain closed.
No food for humans, means no food waste on the streets. No food waste on the streets, means no food for the gulls.
With their food supply cut off, I was hoping for the gulls to “go home!”, “go back to where they came from!”, or whatever else racists say these days.
Of course, this current group of gulls were probably hatched in a nest, on the rooftop of TK Maxx – making them more Batholian than me. Although I am willing to gander a guess that they are 5,000th generation ‘SEA gull’ from Weston Super Mare.
They should fly back there and enjoy the natural diet for a seagull. Fish… and chips. Maybe even a battered sausage, should they be fortunate enough to spot a frail-looking child eating one on the pier.
Most of Bath’s gulls do not appear to have taken the opportunity to return to the home of their forefathers. Clearly the television advertisements and recent discounts from Ancestry DNA could not tempt them into carrying out such research.
This is a shame, especially as one local gull – Mr. D (named after his favourite takeaway) – did manage to trace a member of his family.
Mr. D discovered his great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather.
He found out that his distant relative was named Little Chef (also, after his favourite place to eat) and had originated from Portishead, before emigrating to Bath inside a Dixons delivery lorry.
While in Bath, Little Chef met a chick named Wimpy. They soon became boyfriend and gullfriend, before raising a family in the basement of Our Price.
Tragically, Little Chef died after choking on a blue smartie, which someone had left inside a bag of Woolworths ‘pick and mix’.
Back in the real, relatively sane, world…
I believe that the lack of human food rubbish in the centre of Bath, is forcing our feathered friends* to venture away from the middle of town, and expand their search for grub to residential areas.
* “friends”? Who am I kidding? They’re a bloody nuisance!
I base this theory on the sole fact that on some occasions this week, I heard and saw groups of gulls by our house. This is not a common sight for us – we happen to live in a respected area, don’t you know? The type of food people in our postcode eat, would not be suitable for a gull’s digestive system.
That said, Mr. D and his chums seem to have disappeared over the last few days. I don’t think that this is due to my neighbours or I eating posh, fancy foods, and not providing the gulls with their preferred diet of kebab meat.
You won’t be surprised to learn that nobody in our household eats the likes of quinoa pizza or couscous burgers – and judging by the look of our neighbours, it seems Aldi and Lidl owe a lot of their turnover to those who share my cul-de-sac. You won’t find a lychee here.
I do hope the gulls have found somewhere new to reside, with lots of junk and rubbish to eat. Bristol sounds perfect.
No trackbacks yet.
Posts with similar tags
No post with similar tags yet.
Leave a Reply