Alone at the beach. Well, almost alone.

Alone at the beach. Well, almost alone.

Spending some time on the beach. Just me and this seagull.

Seagulls usually hang in flocks, but his flock was nowhere to be seen. You think he would like some company – like me, stalking him with a camera?

He tolerated me at best.

How could I communicate that I wanted to be his flock mate? To skim out over the ocean, dive for little fish and scoop bitty crabs out of the sand for lunch.

Take a risk Jamie… stick your neck out and be vulnerable. You might make a new friend. So I asked if he wanted some company. I mentioned skimming out over the ocean, snacking on a teensy silver fish.

He stared.

I moved closer.

He took off, flew right in front of me and landed about 15 yards down the shoreline. So you want to act the lonely seagull. One cast out into the utter regions, banished from his flock, sentenced to a life of solitude — flying up and down the waterline.  I yelled into the wind, “Playing the petulant, brooding sea bird is not very attractive!”  He glanced over and turned his head.  Birds. Ugh.

Finding myself alone for the moment at the beach with the sand, the tide and the breeze on my face, I opened a jar and scooped up a bit of sand, a drop of the Atlantic and quickly snagged a ray of sunshine as it broke through the clouds.

I clamped the lid down with force and twisted it quick. There. All ready to pull out on January 25 when I really need a shot of the beach.

My friend looked back. Definitely wanting me to follow. So follow I did. Walking down the beach for one last moment of summer.

Perfect. Or would be if that darned bird tossed a smile my way. I know he wants to. Maybe he wants to? Surely if he knew me — he would want to be my friend.

Birds. Ugh.

 Have a great Friday.