When the seascape turns black and white and becomes eerily quiet, wait
a few moments for a streak across the still sky. The accompanying
squawk is probably more familiar and more likely to get your
attention. But, the monochrome color fits perfectly in the winter sky.
Maine’s gulls are one of the most ubiquitous residents of the coast
and, while in the summer they may seem to be more a nuisance, leaving
their white markings on all that falls below them, in the winter I
welcome their presence and am impressed by their heartiness.
In the soft stillness of the cold it is easier to focus on what makes
these gulls so interesting — and to notice the differences between
them. While they may all look black and grey and white from afar, a
closer look will find distinctive features that define each species.
The three most common gulls that we have on our coast are the Great
Black-backed gull, the herring gull and the ring-necked gull. These
are pretty easy to tell apart. The herring gull is your standard gull
with a grey back and yellow beak — and it eats herring among other
things. The names of the other two give away their telltale features —
one has a black back and the other has a ring around its neck. The
black-backed gull is also the biggest of all gull species — sometimes
weighing up to five pounds.
Gulls are survivors. They eat pretty anything from their natural diet
of small fish and shellfish to the trash put out for pick-up on the
curb. Perhaps that’s why they can live in so many places. Gulls are
found on all seven continents. And they aren’t just found along
coasts. They are strange harbingers of the past, living in deserts —
sandy relics of where oceans once washed over the now dry sands. Yet,
they find a way to live there, scavenging food and finding nesting
spots for their young. Their astounding ability to travel aids their
survival as well. With wingspans as wide as two feet and cruising
speeds of near 30 miles per hour, gulls have no problem finding their
way to sources of food or better habitat when needed.
While their flying ability is impressive (and graceful to watch), many
of them don’t travel very far. A few species migrate seasonally, but
most stay in their home territory despite extreme changes in weather.
That’s why they offer a welcome flutter of life even in the coldest
months of winter along the Maine coast.
They are quite common these days, but that wasn’t always the case.
Because they are colonial nesters, forming groups of breeding pairs
close together, gulls are easy targets for those interested in their
eggs. In the 1800s, that included humans and also the coastal mink
that prowled Maine’s coastline.  Their feathers were also prized and
used for hats and decorative clothing. Now that mink are gone, people
don’t have much of a taste for gull egg, and gull feathers are out of
fashion, the only threat is curious children like my daughters who
delight in adding gull feathers to their collections. On a serious
note, the development of the coastline and islands, which provide
important nesting territories for gulls and other seabirds, does pose
an actual threat and is something to be monitored as recent gull
populations seem to be on the decline.
But for now, when you look at a gull flying overhead, think of Richard
Bach’s iconic “Jonathan Livingston Seagull” who strives to learn to be
the best aviator of his species, moving beyond the daily struggle for
survival to enjoy his life in a distinctly atypical gull way. Imagine
how this simple gull embarks on an otherworldly journey, sparked by
his delight in flight and think again when you look at a seagull and
think it a pest. Instead, appreciate it as a survivor and thriver on
the oft-treacherous wintry Maine coast.