“Don’t mind us – we’re just hanging here admiring your fishing skills. Aren’t we boys?”
“Fishing skills, yes.”
“Skills.”
“Yes, skills.”
“Sorry – what was that? We’re making you nervous? Hear that boys – we’re making him nervous!”
“Nervous!”
“Why are you nervous…? You think we’re up to no good? What, us??”
“Us??”
“What, us??”
“That’s very hurtful, isn’t it boys?”
“Hurtful, yes.”
“Hurt.”
“The thought of stealing your fish never crossed our minds! Did it boys?”
“Fish.”
“Fish!”
“FISH!!”
“FISH!!!”
“What the boys are trying to say is that we’d never swoop down as you were landing a fish, to try to pull it off the hook and eat it ourselves. Nope. Definitely not. That would be outrageous behaviour. You just carry on, and pretend we’re not here.”
I had to go to Bidford today, a task made easier by the fact that the bridge reopened last week (five months and £450,000 of repairs since this happened). I stopped in the car park on the south side of the bridge to take some photos of it, but in the end the shot I liked best was of these gulls riding the wind and watching the fisherman, while he watched them right back.
