A Gull and a painting

Observer: Estella Yee
Date: 11-12
Location: Quad
Time: 1225-1230
Weather: wet, 61˚F

Today’s light mist of rain had continued for the greater part of the day. Walking to Olin’s for my colloquium class, I was intrigued by a close encounter with a large Glaucous-winged Gull. I had seen a few flying over rooftops on campus, but none had landed that I had seen. It was wondrous sight with its majestic tapered wings, white head with light bars of brown, and a grey body. It seemed as large as an American crow, maybe even larger. I was about 2 yards away from it as it strutted around from my camera. I watched as it took off, first gaining a short burst of momentum by positioning its body forward and its wings cocked. Smoothly, it launched itself into the air with a few strokes, curving into the slipstream of wind. Its silhouette against the overcast, grey sky was enhanced by the light transcending through the tips of its secondary flight feathers. It seemed interesting how there was a law created to protect the seagulls from harm, not because they were endangered, but because they were our garbage men! What a stunningly altruistic reason! Actually, they also serve as nature’s pest exterminators. Several passersby ignored the common sight but perhaps were more curious at my intense observation of it. One young man watched stoically as the gull took flight and then he continued on his way to his destination.

Date: 11-12
Location: Between Walton and the Theatre
Time: 1545-1557
Weather: still wet (big surprise), 61˚F (wait...it was the same temperature?)

I didn’t think much would happen after meeting a gull today, but I kept my hopes up and headed toward the Quad. No one person or thing was playing on the lawn or scrounging for food. Apparently, no one wanted to get any wetter than they had to. In front of the Theatre department, northwest of its entrance defended by guardian beasts, I noticed a stunning display of color. A shrub had vibrant violet berries amidst the loss of its yellowing elliptical leaves. Water droplets caressed the round ¼ inch berries. In the vicinity, Nature seemed to have artfully painted a scene for us. Few others would relish the contrast of purples from the berries with yellow foliage, the red burnt vegetation draw out the glossy green evergreens. Autumn was the last time for Nature to exhibit its artistic mastery of the land, before all of the leaves disappeared into the compost and skeletons of trees remained. The few eastern grey squirrels I found were readying their homes for the onslaught of a chilly winter. From all of the squirrel nests I found exposed at the treetops, they would need all the warmth they could get, unless they were actually sleeping in a cozy hole somewhere.