The Western Gulls 
mummy. In some instances, if the chick knew himself discovered, he felt 
free to shift his position with a view to betterment. But instinct did not 
serve a whit to guide the chicks in such efforts, and they were as likely to 
topple off a precipice as to find a safer haven. 
A company of some hundred adults, fathers perhaps, lay offshore 
and watched proceedings; but the mothers gave me earnest attention. 
Three times 1 was struck upon the head, always from behind, by vicious 
beaks, while I was engaged in the benevolent task of gathering up babies 
for a picture. A plague upon this photography of infants anyway! 
It is appreciated by neither parent nor child. A gull-let in the bush 
is marble, but only his rump is visible; while a chick in the hand is the 
squirmiest product of nature. No, sir! he will not keep still, nor stay 
put for the pitiful fraction of a second. Ergo, the gallery of darlings 
is still incomplete. 
AN EVENING MEDITATION 
Photo by Donald R. Dickey 
IS92 
