Bloody seagulls. No matter how hard you try, once they nest on your roof, they will stay there. At least this is what I have found.
I have tried several elimination techniques, but they always return. If we could share the space in harmony, then that would be fine. But the wake up never changes. Every summer morning at five A.M., pecking on the glass. Tapping for hours at a time.
Up close seabird are monsters. Oily feathers. A blood spot on their beak. Cold, beady eye. I never opened the window. So on the tapping went.
In the end I gave up, and accepted this was part of my life. I started every morning with a cup of tea, and watched the movement of the birds. The way they tapped the glass.
A pattern emerged. They arrived at the same time every morning. They shuffled on the windmill in the same way. And always ended their routine with three quick taps.
I knew there was a message here, but what was it? I puzzled for days. Within a month paper covered the walls, and I screamed at the seagulls to confirm my suspicions.
On the morning I worked it out, I reached for my phone to say goodbye. The lights went off after the third tap.
