Alas, it is late September, and however much I love the month of back-to-school book sales, chunky scarves and brilliant changing leaves, I鈥檓 sad that we鈥檙e leaving all the warmth and brilliance of summer behind us.
This has been a fantastic summer, and it鈥檚 melancholy to watch such glorious weather fade into overcast darkness, no matter how inured we West Coasters are to the cold and wet.
So to make the shift to autumn a little less bitter, I thought I might point out that we鈥檙e also leaving behind some pretty awful summer annoyances.
This has been a particularly bad summer for wasps and other stinging things on the south Island. Colonies were popping up wherever we looked. The building across from my window played host to an enormous hornet鈥檚 nest this year, a huge paper ball that was constantly streaming forth miserable black insects.
Wasps鈥� nests are the Death Stars of the natural world.
My roommate and I fought our own glorious battle with the wasps that lived in our siding. We armed ourselves with high-pressure poisons and foams, sometimes hitting our targets and sometimes hitting our downstairs neighbours. (Sorry about that.)
In the end, we defeated our foes with Silly Putty, but not before I鈥檇 killed my roommate鈥檚 strawberry plants through friendly fire with the jet-spray insecticide.
Wasps are the worst. Everything about them is awful, from their aggressive 鈥淗ey, what have you got there?鈥� attitude toward our drinks, to their brain-melting buzzing, to their malevolent persistence.
And we鈥檙e leaving them behind!
Also gone are the mosquitoes. I鈥檓 sporting an armful of itchy, ruddy welts because I left my window open on our last hot night. Mosquitoes are infuriating, because they鈥檙e not quite large enough to smack with a fly swatter. Your only choice is to listen in fear for the high-pitched whirr of their wings. Farewell, you bloodsuckers.
And finally, the moment I鈥檝e been waiting for since April 鈥� the flight of the gulls.
I鈥檓 not the first person to say this 鈥� I鈥檓 not even the first Times 91原创 writer to mention it this month 鈥� but it bears repeating: Gulls suck. Is there nothing to be done about the gulls?
Victoria recently celebrated the arrival of its five millionth cruise-ship passenger. We鈥檙e a tourist town, and a lot of money depends on making sure that tourists have a good time. Our gull problem is so bad that we鈥檙e legitimately worried it might hurt this important industry.
Quite unlike the timid, cheeping gulls you find in Eastern Canada, our gulls are fat, brash and impossible to intimidate. Tourists often lodge complaints about their noise, their mess, their aggressiveness and 鈥� there鈥檚 no nice way to say this 鈥� their explosive tendencies.
Almost everyone who lives in downtown Victoria has been a target at one time or another of a gull squadron; it鈥檚 practically a rite of passage.
This year on Canada Day, I was unlucky enough to get smacked in the face with a salty mess.
鈥淯nhappy鈥� was an understatement.
In my neighbourhood, you can tell who鈥檚 been parking overnight because of the wash of white guano on cars鈥� windshields. But the mess is nothing to the noise.
There鈥檚 one squawking on our neighbour鈥檚 roof as I write this. I can see its head bobbing up and down from its perch, an endless, cacophonic scream blaring out of its gaping maw. Gulls鈥� cries can pierce the air for blocks and blocks.
If someone鈥檚 car alarm goes off, that鈥檚 it, you鈥檙e toast: The whole shrieking flock starts up.
They go off invariably at 4 a.m. and 5 a.m. and 6 a.m. Closing your windows does not help. Burying your head under your pillow does not help. There is nothing that can block their unholy chorus. Their cries split the early morning, interrupted only by the occasional low sob of 鈥淥h, God, why?鈥� from the neighbours.
On Petrie Island in Ontario, they鈥檝e had great luck in chasing away problem geese from the swimming beach by using a remote-controlled drone to scare them off.
Perhaps we could adopt this strategy to convince our gull population to relocate 鈥� although given Victoria鈥檚 dearth of eagles and excess of garbage, the chance seems slim.
The cooler weather brings with it the end of gull breeding season, and for that reason, if no other, I am looking forward to fall.
