Clamour. That’s the best word to describe it.
That’s if you’re talking about sound. Pungent would probably the thing that comes to mind if you have a different balance between the senses.
This pair of Gannets are greeting one another with much beak rubbing.
Here there’s a bridled Guillemot.
That eye stripe is sublime. This one appears to have oil on its plumage which may well give it problems. Apart from being toxic, it affects the water-proofing of the plumage and may lead to heat-loss.
Here’s a pristine one:
The Gannets are close this afternoon.
This one gives me a wary look at I teeter on the cliffs.
On the rocks below is a Grey Seal haul.
They lie like fat sausages on a grill.
They know I’m here even though I’m a long, long way away, so I retreat and leave them in peace.
It must be exhausting swimming when you could be lying in the sun. And lying in the sun is just what I’m going to do now, like a sausage in a blanket.