I live on the top floor of a three-storey Edinburgh tenement (I like to joke it’s the penthouse) which is located on the border between: a well-off part of the city, and the place where ‘Trainspotting’ was set and filmed. There are a Tesla cars and there are junkies also. So it goes.

Each room in the flat is light and airy with high ceilings and large windows, all of which look out on sky and the rooftops opposite. When lockdown proper began everything got real quiet. No traffic noise, no planes, no chatter from people meeting on the street; no music or clanking delivery trucks. Just the unfolding space of silence.

And the seagulls.

The shore is not far from us, so seagulls are a constant. They seem to particularly like our street. I’m not sure why. Maybe the crossroads creates favourable air currents. Maybe the nearby fish and chip shop has the choicest garbage. Maybe they’re just used to it. Whatever the reason, every morning and evening is scored by their curving flight and gutteral cries.

Sometime during lockdown a few of them had babies. The first thing we noticed were the new calls, higher and more insistent than usual. Then, one evening during dinner, we saw them for the first time. A group of tiny dark bodies nestled on the roof opposite. Over the next few weeks they started to explore their surroundings. We would see them totter up to the roof’s edge, take a look down, then, seemingly daunted by the height, teeter back; all the while crying out for more food.

We’ve lived here for more than eight years and this is the first time we’ve seen baby gulls. It could be this happens every summer but we missed it in the noise. I prefer to think that, when things slowed down, like the pioneers of old, the gulls decided to claim the quieter streets for their own.

The reason I’m telling you this is because in the last few days the young have started to fly. They are now making short trips from roof to roof, confidence growing with each new day that passes. As the silence recedes like a wave and the world begins it’s stuttering spin once more; as we re-emerge into a light and life now changed, this image of small dark birds taking their first step into nothing but air, this literal leap of faith, seems somehow fitting. And more than that.

It seems hopeful.

Everything moves in cycles. Tides, seasons, the arc of our lives and our planet’s journey around the sun. On a long enough timeline all patterns become obvious.

I don’t know the future, but I know a little history.

Were you aware that ‘the roaring 20’s’ – that Great Gatsby decade of partying, and art, and dancing, and laughter – came about in large part as a reaction to the 1918 Spanish Flu and the war that preceded it?

I know we’re not out of the dark times yet. The Spanish flu lasted for around 2 years, and most of us are still wrestling with the thick of it. But darkness does not last forever. Dawn comes. Things change; that’s what things do.

The pandemic will end, the world will turn and, sometime very soon, there will be the dancing, and the music, and the art, and the laughter.

If you’re having a hard time right now I feel you. But do not despair just yet.

Take heart, and remember the seagulls:

First comes the silence of mourning

Then the cry of the young

A single step into nothing

Now the joyeous screaming of flight.

What did you think?

What did you think of this post? Do you have thoughts or want to get in touch? The comments box is just below. I read them all, and reply to all the real ones. I’d love to hear from you.


I’ve been working full time as an independent artist for the last 12 years. ‘Full-time’ means just that. I work all day, 7 days a week. A lot of the stuff I make I put out for free, just to share it. Some things (like keeping this blog ad-free) I have to pay for. If you like the blog, or anything else that I do, and want it to continue, you can now support it by making a one-time, or repeating donation for any amount you desire.

Because that’s how you cultivate the things you love. (And Thankyou also.)


Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation


Or enter a custom amount


You are beautiful and your contribution is truly appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly

Sign Up

If you’d like to find out about things first, receive sporadic gifts from yours truly, or just stay in touch, sign up to the mailing list. It’s free to join, I only send mail out when there is something worth mailing about, you can leave at any time. (Oh, and I never share your email with anybody.)

Success! You're on the list.

25 thoughts on “ The Seagulls ”

  1. Edinburgh sounds wonderful. You make it seem very accessible, like a sleepy small town. I imagine it is relatively busy but perhaps the urban activity is manageable enough. I feel very overcrowded here in Seattle. Much has gone wrong in my city and I’m ready to move elsewhere. Perhaps London. Perhaps Paris. Perhaps Edinburgh! I am an artist too so I really could live just about anywhere and figure it out as I went.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Edinburgh is a beautiful city. It is sometimes quiet, sometimes very busy. I am sure you’d feel at home here. For professional visual art, I would pick Paris. Assuming a facility with the language.
      Thanks for the kind words. Be well 🙏🏼


  2. I love it when our community of gulls cheer on the young ones as they take those first flights, their earnest faces as they pass by our windows never fail to make me smile! Your last five lines are a beautiful anthem and the words, dawn comes, bring to mind the hope that we all seek each morning we open our eyes…

    Liked by 3 people

      1. It will end on a spacious deck with a pint at the pavilion in the park (this gorgeous deck gives one a tree-house view above lush gardens, a perfectly civilized way to ride the waves of a pandemic every once in awhile on a summer’s day!).
        I’m glad we share the ways of gulls and happy to read your day is going well, you deserve it!

        Liked by 2 people

  3. I love this piece so much.. the perch we view covid from is so very different based on age and circumstances and it does my heart good to hear the hopefulness from youth.,your post reminds of a fantastic song called Things Happen by one of my favorite young bands Dawes.. check it out if you can.. I have spent quarantine collecting pictures of Scotland off Instagram as it’s the first place I want to go after we Americans are let out of the covid bad manners chair . If I do I ll buy you two a drink !

    Liked by 3 people

    1. First, thankyou very much, you are very kind.
      I completely agree. Your milage may vary with these unusual times based on where you are looking at them from.
      I have not heard this song – but am now going to ;-)
      Scotland is beautiful, and will be here after covid I’m sure. Whenever you get here, hit me up.
      Be well, stay healthy, thanks again – J

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply to Henry Chamberlain Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s