Seagulls are not terrorists. This war is a bad idea
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Version 0 of 1. Slowly dying from poison. Maimed with air rifles. Lured with food and deliberately run over. Eggs crushed. Offspring snatched and killed. Given our treatment of seagulls, it would be understandable if they launched a campaign of terror against us. Listen to the news, and you would think they had. Stig the tortoise was last week “flipped over like a crab” by seagulls who devoured him in Cornwall. Roo the Yorkshire terrier was pecked to death in Newquay. Bella the chihuahua puppy died of gull attack injuries in May. And so David Cameron – off to Cornwall for his hols – called for a “big conversation” about matters such as a cull, declaring that residents of seagull-blighted towns best know what to do about them. Gull attacks normally only happen at this time of year, when birds are protecting chicks from perceived threats Instead of bird-brained empathy, our prime minister could impart a bit of common sense about these wild creatures. Populations of any living thing depend on two things: habitat and food supply. In a world we dominate, we are responsible for both. We have caused a rise in urban populations of seagulls (mostly herring gulls, a declining species and conservation priority) because we have removed fish from the sea, cleaned up landfill sites and built brilliant artificial nests known as chimney stacks. We also run a superbly efficient feeding programme – gull-friendly litter bins, refuse sacks rather than wheelie bins, and holidaymakers throwing chips to admire the aerobatics of hungry birds. Gull attacks normally only happen at this time of year, when birds are protecting chicks from perceived threats. And we are a threat: despite it being illegal to disturb nesting birds, councillors in Devizes, Wiltshire, recently obtained a licence to destroy more than 600 seagull eggs in the town. Why can’t we live peacefully alongside these nesting birds for a few weeks each year? If we must succumb to an insatiable urge to control nature, here’s how, according to Guy Merchant, an international expert in bird control. Gulls nesting on your chimney? Stick up some (cheap) gull anti-roosting spikes. Nests on a flat roof? Run several lines of wire or nylon string a metre above the roof: gulls hate going under suspended wires. Rather than futile culls, smart local councils should change refuse practices, stop fishermen gutting their catch near shore, and, most of all, stop visitors feeding gulls. The demon weed Who can we blame for another summer demon, the giant hogweed which has caused nasty burns on den-building children? The royal family would be a good place to start. Giant hogweed’s sculptural qualities were much favoured by Victorian aristocrats, as Richard Mabey reveals in Weeds, and a collection in Buckingham Palace gardens edged into the royal parks and then into London’s canals, spreading via waterways across the country. We have lived with this non-native plant for nearly two centuries; only in 1981 did we hilariously declare it an offence to “knowingly tolerate its growth”. Let it grow, learn what it looks like, and treat it with caution. Latitude goes swimmingly Two trends at Latitude festival this weekend. When I was a teenager, only a couple of girls would sway on shoulders. Watching alt-J, it seemed like every teen had climbed on to somebody’s shoulders. I couldn’t see whose, but it was probably their parents: one of the loveliest things about Latitude was so many teens and parents enjoying each other’s company. Apart from alt-J, my highlight was diving into the lake. Spoilt for choice, we’re becoming ever more discerning about festivals. As I floated in the silky water, another swimmer declared: “I’m never going to another festival that doesn’t offer wild swimming.” |