Birds, Beach and Darwinism

An hour or two passed and we found ourselves at the top of a cliff overlooking this end of America. Breaking the rules, we followed a path that wound around a “Trail Closed” sign and dipped down toward Black Sand Beach.

The trail was in pretty rough shape - probably why park officials closed the darn thing. But we made it down to the dark, rocky sand and headed north.

Taking in the great views of raw Pacific Ocean, we noticed a California Gull sitting about 100 feet from the water. Curious, I guess, we started for the bird. I was surprised he didn’t take off as we got closer. Moving in to a different direction, we discovered the reason behind his motionlessness.

The bird’s back end was gone - replaced by the rich, red bloody mess of its innerds. Some how this thing survived an attack of some sort. But instead of being fortunate enough to be finished off, this thing was left to die on Black Sand Beach.

And die it surely would. Not before, however, huge circling vultures feasted. Circle, then land, they would - slowly meandering toward the gull to pluck at his ripped-open body. As the vulture picked the gull shrieked.

Raw nature was hard to handle. A flying piece of rocky beach would scare this thing back into the air. Nature is not something to be interfered with, but I couldn’t contain myself.

We had had enough of Darwin’s lessons of nature that day. We left, knowing all too well that the vultures coasting on winds above would soon land on the beach again.