We saw plenty of fauna in Norway (though certainly not as much as in Costa Rica). And while the species didn’t really surprise us, their behaviors did. We passed lounging yaks, curious goats, and baying sheep (were we in Norway or Scotland?). And I was attacked by a seagull.
After a day in quaint Oslo, we made our way to the Kyrping Campground, where we would meet the rest of our traveling group. It was also the spot where our friend’s luggage would be delivered, having come in on a different plane from its owner.
It was a slow day. We recovered from the initial “wow” of the location, and we explored the grounds in earnest. The views were spectacular, and we had nothing to do but relax and soak it all in. I even wandered over a hill and down toward the water, where I promptly took a warm afternoon nap in the soft grass.
Now, you should know that “campgrounds” in Norway can be quite posh – complete with bathrooms, (paid) showers, full kitchens, and even wifi. This site additionally offers luxurious cabins for rent and a small cove that serves as a swimming beach and harbor.
And in the middle of this cove lies a rocky island – an ideal roost for the local seagulls.
I made my way down the dock toward the fjord, a camera slung over my shoulder (I do that). And I ventured down the rocky seawall that took me near that island for a closer look (and better photographic vantage). I could certainly see the perched seagulls much better from that spot, but it was evidently a bit too close for comfort to one individual.
I witnessed the gull circling the sky above the island, cawing its usual seagull cry, and at first I didn’t think anything of it. But as I watched it, I noticed a pattern. It swooped around, dove low – directly toward me – screeched an angry protest, then pulled upwards to swing around for another go. After about the third or fourth time, I realized it was making a run at me, dive-bombing me as close as it dared before pulling away.
This scant bird was attacking me, trying to scare me away.
Now, with this realization, I wanted to back away and not stress the local wildlife. However, every time the gull rushed me, it made for excellent pictures. How could I resist?
Just a few more pictures…
I didn’t venture closer, but I also didn’t leave quite yet. I was thankful to have lugged my bazooka lens with me; the details it captured were superb. And the water was so still it formed the perfect mirror.
Pictures secured, I made my exit. That brave little gull never once relented. Was it a hen protecting her clutch? Was it a male defending his territory? I’ll probably never know, but I let it be in any case.
The rest of our stay was less eventful – sipping wine on the deck and constructing a makeshift shade to escape the blazing sun. We welcomed the beautiful colors of sunset (at 10pm). It truly was a lovely spot.
But I’ll remember that gull. Perhaps I should consider myself fortunate it didn’t have more guts, or I might have gotten pecked. Or worse, it could have pooped on me and my camera!
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