Archives for posts with tag: seagull

Eight in a row

Cormorants and gulls



(c) Jackie Le Poidevin



Cradle rock –

Waves sing lilting lullabies

For seagull chicks.


(c) Jackie Le Poidevin

Cradle Rock is at Moulin Huet, a cove at the bottom of the cliffs in Guernsey (where I grew up). The image below shows one of 15 canvases of the bay painted by Renoir on a visit to the island in 1883. The area is named after a former watermill owned by a Monsieur Huet (pronounced locally as “Whet”).


For Carpe Diem: A Clam, in which Chevrefeuille explored a haiku by Basho about Japan’s Wedded Rocks that is full of double meanings.

Polling day –

Harsh analysis

From the gulls.


(c) Jackie  Le Poidevin


In the tractor’s wake,

Seagulls fish for worms.

The earth ripples.

(c) Jackie Le Poidevin

For Carpe Diem: Writing techniques (I’ve chosen comparison)

Fallen to earth,

Bedraggled seagull feather –

Once you could soar.


(c) Jackie Le Poidevin

For Carpe Diem: Feather

Grand Hotel ballroom,

Tap dancing in grey tailcoats,

Seagulls on the lawns.

(c) Jackie Le Poidevin

For Carpe Diem: rehearsal

Seagulls will lure worms to the surface of the earth by imitating the patter of rain with their feet. If you haven’t seen this happen, do a search on You Tube for “seagull tap dance”. I always think the “worm charming” seagull looks really self-conscious – it’s something to do with the way it keeps looking all around while it’s pattering, as if it’s thinking “Is anyone looking? Have they noticed my flat feet? And my inside-out knees?” But maybe it’s just English seagulls who are so easily embarrassed.

We saw a pair on the seafront yesterday when we walked down to witness the highest spring tides in nearly 20 years. One was dancing, faster and faster, and his mate was by standing by his side, appraising his technique with her head cocked. Looking rather deflated, he finally gave up.

When we passed by again a few minutes later though, they were both dancing away vigorously. Maybe he’d caught a big, fat, juicy worm in the meantime and she’d decided to swallow her pride (after he’d swallowed the worm).

“Sussex by the Sea” –

Old girls and herring gulls

Join the brass band.

(c) Jackie Le Poidevin

For the prompt “Sunday afternoon” at Carpe Diem and “animal” at Writing 201.


The photo by Gordon Griffiths shows Eastbourne bandstand, built in 1935 and situated on the seafront promenade. One of the songs often performed by the brass bands is Sussex by the Sea, a patriotic marching song composed in 1907 by William Ward-Higgs. There are five verses and a chorus, but my favourite is the third verse:

Sometimes your feet are weary,
Sometimes the way is long,
Sometimes the day is dreary,
Sometimes the world goes wrong;
But if you let your voices ring,
Your care will fly away,
So we’ll sing a song as we march along,
Of Sussex by the Sea.

The phrase “Sussex by the sea” probably came from a Rudyard Kipling poem, Sussex, written in 1902.

Seagulls strut, swagger –

Schoolboy bullies in white shirts,

Hands in grey pockets.
© Jackie Le Poidevin