Counting seagulls (a contemplation of industrial/digital culture)
I’m checking my mail when I decide to stand in front of my apartment building for a little air: Astoria, Queens, New York City, USA air.
I notice five seagulls flying overhead — north to south — well above the buildings, asphalt, and internal combustion engines (and EVs).
No more than a few seconds later, another eight gulls pass so I decide to count. Why not?
In no time, the count is over 50.
To my right, in the beautifully symmetrical little tree that graces my block, the sparrows are chirping up a storm. Proud parents zip in and out of the branches to feed their young. The result is a symphony of cheeps, peeps, and non-problematic tweets.
I’m at 75 seagulls now. Not sure if this is atypical or perhaps just a daily occurrence I’ve somehow never detected. As I near the century mark in about a ten-minute span, the sparrows are louder than ever.
Are there more seagulls passing than sparrows in the beautifully symmetrical little tree? I’ll never know but I’m digging the fine, feathered experience no matter what.
It’s what passes for nature in these parts. Outside of the rare raccoon sighting, we’ve got cats and dogs and squirrels and we’ve got plenty of birds: pigeons, crows, starlings, sparrows, and seagulls.
125-126-127… but I can’t help but imagine what it might have been like in pre-Industrial or even better, pre-Colombian days.
“I have never seen a river full of fish,” Derrick Jensen writes in Endgame. “I have never seen a sky darkened for days by a single flock of birds. I have, however, seen skies perpetually darkened by smog.”
The sparrows quiet down a bit… almost as if they can read my overburdened mind. A sky darkened for days by a single flock of birds? Seems like another planet to me.
I reach 168 seagulls before heading back inside. My neighbor’s imprisoned parakeet squawks as I climb the stairs.
We’ve got lots of work to do. It begins with recognizing our self-imposed cages.
This is really good. I have started noticing the moon during daylight hours. It is peculiarly beautiful to see, so now I look for it and find it all the time. Was it always visible during the day? I have never seen pictures of it. Guess I will have to start taking some myself.
Here in rural GA there are plenty of domestic birds. The loudest are also the smallest, the wrens. Well apart from the hummingbirds. There are chickadees, flycatchers, peewees, towees, doves, bluejays, cardinals, caws, several raptors, probably hawks, and this morning there were even 2 pairs of bluebirds. Usually they prefer open space, but I guess word of mouth, or beak, has spread that here is a food source. I have even a few sitting in the tree talking to me LOL. At first they were wary about the cats, but now they sit on the porch with the dog and the 2 cats. They know these are McINgrid cats LOL too lazy to chase them!