DEENA LINDSTEDT

SIMPLY TO FLY

The beach glimmered in the sun as the boy slowly crept through the coarse sea grass growing tall among the dunes. He carried a large net like those used by fishermen to land salmon as they trolled the Pacific Northwest coastline. When he reached the beach, the boy saw a seagull pecking a sand dollar. Cat-like he crept…moving closer; he leaped, capturing the gull in the tangled web. Holding the squawking young gull tightly between his legs, he untangled the thrashing wings and feet, dug in his pocket, and removed a ball of string. After he tied the string haphazardly to a webbed foot, the frantic bird was released. The gull, believing itself free from the trap, soared into the sky. The freedom was short-lived. The boy roughly yanked on the string and started to run. The gull fell hard and was dragged along the sand through clumps of grass. Quickly taking flight the confused gull was again pulled back; slammed against the sand; again trying to fly—again and again. The brutal game continued until, at last, the string gave way from the bleeding leg and the frantic gull, feeling the constraint gone, ran into the ocean and quickly swam to deep water.

*          *          *

            As the sleeping seagull bobbed over the ground swells in the surf, an errant breaker splashed over his body waking him from his nap. He opened his eyes and ruffled his feathers. Looking ashore, he saw a fledging gull standing alone. She was lovely and delicate, silvery wing tips against her white body. In his rush to swim to shore, he splashed water on his back. The sun shining on his feathers made him appear like a white knight coming to her rescue.

“Scree,” he squawked wading through the surf.

“Chee,” she cooed as she pranced before him. His strong white back was sleek and shiny and the feathers at the top of his head had a bit of a curl.

“I’m Gull.” He puffed out his chest.

“Chee.” She chirped. “My mama flew away. Help me find her.”

“Scree! Fly?”

Chee bobbed her head.

Gull quickly pulled his scarred leg up under his feathered belly. “Stay here. You don’t need to fly.”

“Don’t fly. Why?”

“Flying gulls are a low-life species. They eat garbage thrown from boats and get in big squawks, fighting over it.” Gull swaggered before her, kicking up mounds of sand. “I’m clever. I hunt for food.”

“Mussels?” She cawed excitedly.

“Yes, and fish that swim far out to sea.”

“It’s scary to swim too far.”

“That’s because you’re only a she-gull.” He gazed down on her shining head. “I’ll bring you fish.”

A small flock of gulls flew over them and Gull put his curved bill far into the air. He squawked out a raucous commentary on the way of life of other seagulls. “Squawk, screech, squawk.” Gazing at Chee from the corner of his eye, his beak curved into a smug grin.

For the next several days, Gull stayed close to Chee chasing away other gulls that came their way. Having established his territory, he approached Chee standing in the bubbling surf watching the gentle waves washing against the sand. Cautiously, he moved closer and gave her a soft peck on her head. She placed her beak into his downy neck.

The sun had turned into a fiery orange ball as it seemed to vanish into the watery depths of the gray ocean. Their tail feathers could be seen bobbing up and down as four webbed feet piled up little mounds of sand as they scurried toward an abandoned pier located in the distance.

For several days, Chee and Gull enjoyed discovering each other as they frolicked on the beach, scuffling in the sand and splashing in the water, experiencing the mating ritual of seagulls.

One evening, as they stood at the end of the pier looking out over the formidable ocean, Chee said: “Let’s fly fast and capture the sun. I don’t want the day to end.”

“Don’t be stupid. Scree. You can’t stop the sun from setting.”

“I want to fly. We have wings.” Standing tall with her back arched and her wings spread wide, she demonstrated how. “Let’s go!”

“Squawk! Forget it. We are safe on the ground.” He limped toward their nest.

After that incident, Chee didn’t seem to want to leave her nest. Gull thought she was sad because he wouldn’t let her fly. He brought many purple mussels for her to nibble on, but she ignored him. One day, he heard Chee cawing and thought she was in danger. He ran to the nest but discovered she was just excited …and proud. She had laid three eggs.

She patiently sat on her expectant offspring, until one day, boredom took over. She stood up and looked down at the three warm eggs. “Gull, sit for a while.”

“No. Hatching eggs is she-gull work.” He squawked as he strutted away. A little while later, he brought back a juicy morsel of food and dropped it in the nest.

Chee’s diligence was finally rewarded when one afternoon, she felt a stirring under her bottom. She jumped up.

Gull heard her excited screech and came running to the nest. They watched as their chicks pecked through the shells and came tumbling out as wet little balls of gray fuzz, their bills opened wide, peeping for their first meal. Gull nuzzled Chee as they beheld their chicks.

Chee cooed to her chicks and rubbed her bill along their soft fuzzy backs. They looked at her with half opened eyes and snuggled deep in the warm nest. Their bellies were full with the food she had thrust deep in their throats. Having responsibility for her chicks, keeping them warm, fed and hidden from predatory animals, Chee was exhausted, but she knew she didn’t dare ask Gull for help, convinced he’d again tell her it was she-gull’s work. She wiggled and settled herself over the chicks.

A few weeks later, Gull became impatient with Chee’s devotion to the chicks and her avoidance of him. “Chicks need to leave the nest,” he squawked one morning, waking her up.

Chee moved her head from under her wing and yawned. She was surprised to see him standing over her. “No. They’re mine.”

“They have to leave the nest and learn how to take care of themselves.”

One of the chicks had moved out into the nest. She pulled him back under her wing. “They are too little to...”

“Too little, that’s all I ever hear,” he squawked. “You’re hopeless.” He thrust his webbed foot out, kicking some of the twigs loose from the nest.

Chee’s feathers drooped. She snuggled against the chicks and watched Gull swim out to sea. In her heart, she knew Gull was right; the time had come.

The sun had risen over the dunes when she encouraged the chicks to wake up and follow her to the beach. First, she showed them how to find food and they learned how to grab quickly to keep the other birds from snatching their prize. Next, she knew she had to teach them to fly. She obeyed Gull by not flying herself (except when she was sure he couldn’t see her), but her chicks were a different matter.

“Watch mama-gull. You must learn to fly.” The chick’s eyes were wide as they watched Chee run down the beach and with her wings out she took off from the sand and flew a few feet, circled above and landed near the chicks.

“You try, just like mamma did.”

Without hesitation, the chicks followed her lead and before long, each one was able to fly. For the rest of the day, they all practiced flying, having a wonderful time.

A few days later, Chee stood with her fledgling chicks at the end of the pier. Gull watched them from the surf below.

She put her wings around each of her chicks for the last time. She and Gull watched as the three young gulls flew over the beach to vanish behind the high dunes in the distance.

The shoreline was littered with smooth pebbles, broken sea shells and kelp incrusted with sand and fleas. An unrelenting drizzle surrounded Chee’s mature body. She knew she would miss the chicks, but that could be bearable if only she and Gull could be content with each other. Chee finally admitted that she could not truly be happy unless she could experience all life had to offer. Her love of Gull was true but she didn’t know if she could continue to make a sacrifice and not fly, except by deception.

Her thoughts became more tormented. He needs me. All he has is his pride. What will happen to me if I leave? I am safe here. What is it like out there? If only we could explore together.

Chee had been unable to understand why Gull did not want to fly. Every gull she had ever seen had been able to fly. Did his mother never teach him? Maybe he would let her teach him how, like she taught the chicks. The solution for Chee’s problem now seemed so simple. She would teach Gull to fly, to swoop and ride the air currents, just as she had taught her chicks. She was excited as she planned her strategy.

Chee snuggled against Gull’s chest feathers and gave him little pecks under his curved bill. They walked along quietly for a few minutes. Chee danced in front of him, causing him to stop in mid-stride. “Are you angry because I taught our chicks how to fly?”

“No. They had to leave home. There is only enough food for you and me.”

“I want to fly too.”

“NEVER! I won’t allow it!” He batted at her with his wing.

“But, we are meant to fly…” Chee danced away from him.

“No!” He squawked loudly. “I know what is best.” In his agitation, he frantically ruffled his feathers.

“I’ll show you how,” she screed as she started to run from him. Chee’s webbed feet were throwing up puffs of sand as she took off in the air. She climbed higher and higher, circling above him.

He looked up. The sun shining on her silver-white wings reminded him of the stars in the midnight sky. Her eyes sparkled and the smile on her beak was beautiful. He stood quietly and watched her soar through the air. She gracefully glided over the sea coming to rest upon the water, sending ripples in her wake as she swam toward him. Gull was standing on one foot at the edge of the surf watching foam sink into the sand.

“Will Gull try?” She nudged against him.

He shoved his chest out. “You’re not better than me! I can fly. I’ll show you!”

He strutted from her, and then began to run along the beach, spreading his wings wide. The air quickly lifted him several feet off the ground. He flapped his powerful wings, flying higher and higher. He looked down, closed his eyes and remembered being pulled to earth. He was falling, down… down, his wings floating uselessly above him. He landed hard, his bill sticking into the sand. Stunned for a few seconds, he jumped up and frantically shook the sand from his feathers. He quietly walked away, his head held low.

Chee was sad for causing Gull this humiliation. Deciding she would never again suggest flying, she resigned herself to her fate. She followed him to their nest. As a concession to herself, she decided to fly no matter how Gull felt about it. Surprisingly, he no longer objected.

During Chee’s first flying adventure, she couldn’t stop looking at the sights of the landscape below, the tall fir trees and narrow roads winding through the mountains. The sun shining on the water looked like a million diamonds dazzling her vision. The warm air currents allowed her to relax and glide as she continued to gaze at this new world below. As the day progressed, she became lonely, thinking how wonderful it would be to have Gull fly by her side. Reluctantly, she turned south and headed back toward her home.

She flew everyday now, thoroughly enjoying her newfound independence, but it was impossible for her to totally disregard her old habits. No matter how far she ventured during the day, she would always return to Gull so they could hunt for food together in the evening.

One day she saw four other gulls flying above. She flew close to them and screed loudly, “Chee.”

“Where’s your mate?” One of the gulls screeched.

“Below.” The small flocked could see the lone Gull sitting on the dock with his head held high.

“Is he crippled?” Cawed one of the female gulls.

“No. He is very strong.”

As the day progressed, she observed something curious. There were no cross squawks, and she watched in wonder at the affection the gulls showed toward their mates. A plan was beginning to develop in her mind. She would invite her new friends to meet Gull. Surely, he would like them as much as she. Perhaps they all could persuade Gull to join their flock.

Her desire was not to be realized as Gull's behavior toward the flying gulls was rude and objectionable. He lost no time criticizing Chee as a mate.

The next day was difficult for Chee as she flew near her new friends; however, their sympathy for her was real. “Chee, don’t put up with Gull when he squawks at you,” one of the female gulls told Chee.

“Yes, Chee, squawk back at him.” One of the male birds cawed. “Let him know you don’t like it.”

Chee was afraid to squawk at Gull anymore, remembering last night when he pecked at her back so hard it brought blood to her white feathers.

Several days later, Chee’s friends introduced her to other seagulls and she was accepted as a part of the larger flock located near a bustling marina. While Chee basked in positive attention, gaining much needed self-assurance, her relationship with Gull deteriorated at an alarming rate.

One day the flock flew over Gull’s deserted pier on their way to meet a passing fishing trawler. Chee’s silver wing tips were easily picked out among the flock. The sight of her with the high-flying gulls was more than Gull could tolerate. With his beak high in the air, he screeched in his loudest, most domineering squawk, “Chee! Come down!”

She saw her mate standing on the dock with his head held high. The other gulls continued with their flight. She descended slowly, landing gracefully to stand in front of Gull.

“Chee is a bad mate. Selfish gull! SQUAWK. I hate high-flying gulls. Stay home where you belong! SQUAWK, SCREECH.” His caw became louder and louder as he continued to rant at her in his most contemptible manner.

Quietly she stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. She looked down at her feet, letting his anger roll off her feathers. She had always felt guilty he wasn’t happy. She now understood his unhappiness was his problem, and not hers.

When he finally simmered down, she cooed a mournful sigh. “I don’t know how to make you happy.” She spread her wings in a questioning manner. Her head was bowed. He looked at her, confused by her calm, non-defensive manner.

“I have to fly,” she squawked, pulling her head back up. “I can’t live unless I fly. I don’t know what else I can do.” She reached out her wings.

Gull was breathing heavily as he stared at her. They remained silent as they continued to look at each other.

He started to walk toward her. “Don’t go. I will change. Scree…” Chee backed away from him.

“It doesn’t matter. Too late.” She backed further away. Sadly, she looked into his eyes one last time and turning quickly, she ran to the edge of the pier and took flight, her wings gracefully taking her high into the air.

He watched as the sun glittered off her feathers, a single silhouette flying high and alone. He walked to the end of the pier, still watching the speck in the distance. Suddenly, he was furious. He began to flap his wings.

“She can’t do this to me!” He flapped his powerful wings faster and took flight. He climbed higher in the air keeping his eyes on the dot in the distance. Looking down, he stared at the world below but continued to flap his wings.

“Chee! I’m flying! I’m free! Scree, Scree,” he cried excitedly. Discovering how simple the task, he continued to pump his wings, shortening the distant between him and his mate. Then it dawned on him what he was doing. The bitter bile of pride came into his throat. Banking one wing, making a wide arc, he changed his course and slowly flew in another direction.

Deena Lindstedt   ©    2025