Driving up I-95. With Gull.

Posted on by Live & Learn

seagull

It was three weeks ago, 6 p.m. and I’m on my evening commute home. I-95 is snarled in both directions. Heavy, slow-moving metal edging its way up, a car length at a time. I’m looking ahead to find a break. I see none. Waze flashes an update: “Your drive time is extended by 10 minutes. Accident ahead.”

But that’s not the story. No. That’s not what drifts in during my 7-mile run on Sunday. It’s not what emerges during a meeting late Monday afternoon. And it’s not what’s hanging around the edges, gently finding its place among the mental chatter of Work.

It’s a white speck 75 car lengths ahead, hovering a steady five feet above the sea of car tops.  A white speck, moving against traffic. First the speck. Then Wings. Then the gull.

The bird’s line is a straight shot.

Seagulls that I know, float in wind tunnels, they surf, they lallygag on shorelines. Not this one. This Gull’s wings are flapping, beating fiercely and maintaining the rhythm of an Olympic rowing crew free of its coxswain:  I need to get there. Quickly. I need to get there. Now.

It’s 15 car lengths now. The bird is keeping its line, passing under a bridge without interruption. Jet Gull – – at low altitude and maintaining flight speed. I’m locked in.

I bend my head to see him. He doesn’t look down, or around or even shift his glance. Focus. Hurry. Get there. Now.

Blink. He’s in my rear view mirror. Gull. Wings. A Speck. Gone.

My gaze turns back to the sea of cars in front of me. Gull, where are you going? Why the Rush?

Its 4am. Today, Hump Day.  Weeks later. I’m flicking through my Reader and I come across This.

A seagull froze, motionless, in the sky – lost in thought. Then suddenly it remembered something important, perhaps that life is as short as a blink, and went dashing off a full pelt.

—Mikhail Shishkin, from The Light and the Dark

Synchronicity? Coincidence? Serendipity?

Hmmmmmm.

Notes:

20 thoughts on “Driving up I-95. With Gull.”

  3. you and the gull both were caught up in the same moment in time, sharing the same small space on this planet, and both with other things calling you somewhere else.

  5. I lived on the coast for several years, spending a great amount of time at the beach. It was common lore, bore out by observations, that the seagull, along with a certain breed of falcon, appeared to fly at times for the sheer joy of it. Small falcons shared this trait. They would fly for miles on the updraft of the sea cliffs, never moving a wing, and just coast along, looking this way and that. I’ve witnessed them diving and then abruptly climbing until their “airspeed” just about ran out, then turn and dive once more. This was all more than random acts, I’m sure. And your gull, he definitely had a plan in mind, and a goal to reach.

    1. Hi Larry. I had no idea about the common lore or seagulls and falcons shared common traits. I found that your comment stuck with me all day yesterday. So evocative and beautiful. Thank you for sharing.

  9. cool. i love when things in my life collide in this way. i love your stories…see, something great is coming out of those morning commutes? your sharing is powerful. wonderful.

    1. Hi Vicki. Thank you so much. There was a pivot point, I’m not sure when, where the commute turned from being drudgery to this. I’m glad I’m able to convey those moments of reflection into something that you find interesting.

  10. Mmm…and I thought I was the only one who has these bizarre moments David!!! 😀 No, I’m joking – I know everyone gets these – I’ve asked a lot of people about these weird coincidences. I don’t really know what to make of or call them! Maybe that seagull like me sometimes gets a bit forgetful, his memory must have returned super fast – maybe something he should have done yesterday?!!!

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