Today, I was looking at the seagull, who lives on top of the chimney 4 metres outside my window, and seeing it for the first time.
It lives on it’s own. There is no room for another one on that perch. It was sleeping with it’s beak on it’s back, sitting so that a light afternoon breeze would slide along its feathers.
The gull looked very handsome and serene and wise. I remembered other times when I admired their idle wisdom, their godly confidence that everything is perfectly alright – no need to fret.
By and by, I decided to unclutter my studio in order to clear path for some new things. Doing so, I found an old notepad with a few diary entries, one of them about seagulls…
February 16, 2010
“The seagulls, they despise us, did you notice?
They laugh at us, looking down on us in their arrogant bemusement, and crapping on us every now and then as if saying: “Yeah? What are you going to do about it, miserable pathetic gits, leading incomprehensible frantic lives, fretting, rushing about down there?”
But of course, they won’t go into the pain of saying all that, because words and thoughts are far too bulky and clumsy to bother. They simply look down at us, bemused.
They don’t clatter their space, as we do. They have a clear unobstructed view from where they are – on the roof-tops, in the air.
“Those creatures down there, – think they – Those which crawl about those complex structures they build to live in – it is curious to observe them occasionally. They often carry food about them. Fun to raid! One has to be cautious, they aren’t as easily predictable as other animals. Overall they are fearful and timid, but every now and then one comes across an agressive specimen…”
When you catch a sight of a seagull gliding on an air-flow, watch it for a while. Notice, it does nothing. There is no need in that act, only pure pleasure…
The blasted thing spends hours doing nothing, simply enjoying itself!