There is a blackbird in the garden that starts singing around 5.30 every morning as the stars fade. He continues in phases during the day, prolonging his song into the dusk when the streetlamp comes on.
His notes are set against a background of yawping, screaming cries, equally evocative in their way: the herring gulls (Larus argentatus) are back. They have been quiet all winter, drifting inland in loose, field-scavenging flocks. Now they have returned to stake out their rooftop nesting territories.
Most of the adults are in pairs (they often mate for life), but one male is alone. He waits and watches, surveying the street with yellow eyes, chasing away other gulls that impinge on his domain. Occasionally, he pads slowly along his roof ridge with a deliberate and faintly scornful grace.
Perhaps he has lost his mate, or maybe he is yet to find one. Herring gulls are long-lived birds that can reach 30 years old or more and don’t usually start breeding until they are four. Whatever his age, this one is in full breeding plumage, the warm white of his head, breast and underparts contrasting with his cloud-grey back and upper wings. When folded, his black wingtips reveal a crisp line of white dots. Brightest of all is the loud daffodil of his strong beak, with its blood-red spot that will serve as a target for his chicks to peck and request food.
Gulls are controversial town‑dwellers. As spring progresses, they become more and more raucous, yelping at all hours. A nest on your house can be an ordeal. They have little fear of humans and will defend their eggs and young aggressively if they feel threatened, targeting passersby with spatters of droppings or regurgitated food. Living near the coast, you learn by experience not to eat ice-cream unshielded on the beach in case a gull swoops and grabs. Sometimes they injure people and pets.
Yet it’s right that they are a protected species, one that it is against the law to harm or kill. Intelligent, voracious and messy, they are birds in our own image, whose behaviour is largely a result of human-made environmental changes.
• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at guardianbookshop.com and get a 15% discount
