VISITORS to the North Wales coast always comment on two things: how they love the scenery and how they love the sound of seagulls.
Yes, I'll grant you the barking call of the Herring Gull (sorry, but apart from Jonathan Livingstone there is technically no such thing as a “seagull”) is very atmospheric, and you know you're by the sea when you hear that sound.
But try living in Herring Gull Central for 12 months and you may start to change your mind.
Evocative calls, horrible neighbours
It's our own fault, we've created the perfect living habitat for them, and gulls, fantastic opportunists that they are, have adapted to take full advantage of us.
Without man's influence, Herring Gulls would nest on cliffs, finding nooks and ledges on which to build their nest.
From a gull's point of view, a tall building with its roof angles, chimneys and balustrades, is a glorified cliff, and just as suitable for building a nest and raising a family.
Then there's the ready supply of food. Why would any self-respecting gull do things the hard way - flying out to sea to look for fish - when we provide such rich pickings here on land?
Unsuspecting visitors throw chips to the birds that scrounge around their feet, not realising that today's beggars are tomorrow's muggers, swooping down to help themselves to your unwrapped fish and chips or ice cream without so much as a please or thank you!
Apart from having the element of surprise, these aerial thieves are big birds with a strong, sharp beak, so you may not feel inclined to defend your food.
“These were not just any sandwiches, these were M&S prawn sandwiches!"
We can't just blame unaware visitors for unwittingly attracting the birds. I have seen my neighbour deliberately putting sandwiches down on the pavement to feed a pair of breeding Herring Gulls; not just any sandwiches, these were M&S prawn sandwiches!
At least the litter wasn't long on the pavement as the birds demolished the food within seconds, but smart gulls have learned that tasty snacks may be hidden inside black bin bags and will not hesitate to rip open a rubbish bag and scatter its contents across the pavement as they look for something to eat.
Problem gulls in Caernarfon
A Herring Gull's plumage develops further each year as it reaches maturity. Adult Herring Gulls in full breeding plumage wear quite a smart livery: white head and neck, yellow bill with an orange tip, pale grey back with the black-and-white tips of their wings extending beyond the tail, and pink legs and feet.
Juvenile birds are altogether scruffier, being a mottled brown and white with grey feet, and can usually be heard whining for food from their parents long after they're perfectly self-sufficient.
But soon they'll have to fend for themselves. Spring is here, and an adult's thoughts are turning to raising the next generation.
Already they're beginning to pair up and check out likely nesting sites. Last year, a pair of Herring Gulls raised a brood between the chimney pots on next-door's roof.
It probably made the perfect nesting site: a view to make an estate agent weak at the knees, chimney pots to prevent an attack from above by a Peregrine Falcon who would happily make a meal out of a Herring Gull chick, and a small patch of flat roof for the chicks to run around on once they'd outgrown the nest.
Initially, I rather enjoyed watching the fluffy chicks take their first wobbly steps from the nest and waggle their hopelessly ineffective new wings.
But I soon learned that a growing gull family is a noisy affair.
Every time one parent arrived with food, the other would greet them with a loud raucous cry as they re-established the pair bond and told the rest of gull society that this was their territory.
The adults didn't just call to one another during the day, they kept it up during the night too, and as the run of broken nights grew longer, so my enthusiasm for our feathered neighbours decreased somewhat.
"Just who are the smart ones here?"
Now I'm watching two Herring Gulls checking out the chimney stacks again, presumably the same pair checking that last year's nesting site is still suitable.
I wonder how long it will be before they start building a nest amongst the chimneys; I'll keep you posted on progress.
I do admire how Herring Gulls have adapted to take full advantage of us humans: just who are the smart ones here?
But must they nest right outside my bedroom window?
Perhaps I should buy some ear plugs in readiness!
