NATURE: Bitter pills and vagrant gulls

I am surrounded by fog, and saturated, both body and mind equally unable to see through the grey haze of yet another flu-filled winter day.
I hauled my bleary-eyed way to the chemist over grey pavement, past grey walls under a grey sky, and joined the long line of the sniffing, the coughing and the sneezing, waiting my turn for the attention of an impossibly healthy apothecary, who seemed visibly cheered at the sight of the lengthening queue outside her door. That ‘Ring-Ding-Dingaling’ of the register really is seasonal music to her ears.
“What are your symptoms?” she asked with a bright smile. Her words barely made it through the quagmire my brain had become. Understanding, she and held up two small boxes, one in each hand. “Would you like these? Or these?”
I gave a vague gesture, ready to drop. The medication came with instructions, to which I nodded, unhearing, then stumbled out past the ranks those similarly diseased and likewise ailing.
I make my way to the nearby coast, to take in some healing salt air while I take my medicine. No matter that among the many gulls waiting for bread at the sea wall is one vagrant, in the shape of a ring-billed gull. I no longer care. I just want to feel well again.
To the untrained eye, a gull is a gull, nothing more. Yet this attractive family of birds, which were once ubiquitous throughout the country, display a wide range of qualities that make them worthy of attention.
To begin with, we must acknowledge that not everyone finds gulls equally attractive. In seaside towns herring gulls have made themselves more than a nuisance by homing in on outdoor diners and helping themselves to a beakful of whatever is available. And the herring gull is large enough to be intimidating, with a ferocious, red-rimmed eye and rather startling hooked and yellow bill, as well as an alarming war cry.
After the European population of herring gulls dropped by 50 percent in about 25 years, moves were made to offer legal protection. These intelligent birds soon became conditioned by this and brash.
The reasons for the decline in gull numbers remain poorly understood. Environmental change is at the root of it, no doubt. For instance, the advent of the black plastic bin bag had waste food festering in the sun and breeding harmful bacteria, and the flocks of gulls that fed at landfill sites were badly hit. Though we have learned and moved along, the gull population has shown little sign of recovery.
A short while ago I watched a man at work with a plough. Properly executed ploughing is a treat to watch. See how that creamy winter sward is transformed into rich pudding-brown, how those parallel furrows unfold at the passing of man and machine, and see the great flock that follows, ascending and descending to feast upon the wealth of worms and grubs exposed.
Except the birds were now but few, with the hundreds of yore now a mere score.
We know how nature abhors a vacuum and that any niche left vacant will somehow be filled. I suppose we would like to see the birds with which we were once familiar make something of a comeback, rather than have other, opportunistic species take their place.
It was only in 1979 that the first ring-billed gull was sighted in Ireland. That bird, which was seen close to Belmullet, was undoubtedly carried across the Atlantic on storm winds. Since then sightings have increased to the point it is a rare month that no record is made of ring-bills in this country. It could be they will finally settle and begin to breed. We shall see.
That prospect does not absolve us of all responsibility regarding our native gulls. These need to be taken care of, and for the most part that means protection of natural habitat and protection from non-native predators, including North American mink.
When it comes to habitat, it is not just the total amount of suitable territory we should consider, but how intact this territory actually is, for habitat fragmentation, when viewed incorrectly, can be more harmful than complete destruction of the same, in that such a thing offers a false sense of security.
We welcome our overseas visitors, though not at the expense of those who remain our own. And so it was the joyful flight of black-headed and common gulls that were my real comfort on stopping at the water’s edge to fill myself with anti-this and anti-that. Watching them cut into wind over waves is good for the heart, and a happy heart, as we know, is good for curing. Keep well.

Michael Kingdon, a naturalist and keen fisherman, lives on the shores of Mayo’s Lough Carra, the best example of a shallow marl lake in western Europe and therefore an SAC of enormous ecological and conservation importance.