I always try to snap pictures of seagulls whenever I have the chance. They never turn out the way I want. I comforted myself with the idea that it’s exactly why I love those birds: they’re the ultimate symbol of freedom. To me they’re like flying exclamation marks. I like them, even if they’re brutal and rude (at least at our coast, where some of them are convinced that any type of food at the beach, whether it’s in the hand of a human person or not, is theirs… who can blame them? The shore used to be their territory and theirs alone…)
This one was flying along with his mate along the Emerald Coast of Brittany. How I love northern Britany, how the view changes with every turn you take. How it’s impossible to follow the sealine by car, but how a long trail takes you from the very east to the very west of that same shore. We discovered little pieces of paradise and wondered how on earth it was possible we were the only ones there.
I tried to capture the landscape. And suddenly, they were there. I clicked out of habit, played along while they were there.
When we came home, the pictures of our trip rested in my camera. Only a few weeks after, I watched them and put them on my computer. This one hit me right in the face. This is the one I’ve been trying to take for all those years. From the very day I felt that connection with those birds up until now. I was almost in tears. This is August. This is Brittany. This spoke to me at sweet sixteen. It still speaks to me, fourteen years later.
There is more to life than eating, or fighting, or power in the Flock.
Jonathan Livingston Seagull – Richard Bach