I READ with interest Harry Reid's article on seagulls ("What's to be done about the gull fiends?", The Herald, August 21).
Thirty years ago, when I moved to Skye, the gulls were plentiful. They flew in great gyres over my house; they came down on to the surrounding croft in their hundreds, especially to shelter from stormy weather. They were on the rocky shore below, their cries resounding in the bays. I watched them bobbing on the water of the loch and feeding. I saw the gannets and gulls diving and in amongst them the shag patrolling up and down the coastline. The air was alive and vibrant with them. They dived into the loch behind the fishing-boats snapping up the discarded parts of fish thrown overboard.
Please enable cookies in your browser to display the rest of this article.