Our alarm is the sound of seagulls. A strange one, some may say, but for me, it reminds me of English holidays. Living in Dallas, we are MILES from the coast, and I really feel that I no longer live on an island. Wherever you are in England, you can drive to the seaside and back for an afternoon out, so seagulls can be spotted in every city, town and village. It may come as a surprise to many Brits that I long for the squawking, obnoxious call of seagulls. I even miss their incredible ability to steal an entire ice cream cone from the hands of an unsuspecting holiday maker (witnessed first hand on Brighton Pier - the poor lady screamed and fell to the ground), and their precision when plucking a chip (french fry) from the air that has been tossed by a rare gull lover. It's a simple truth - when something from the background hum to your life is gone, you miss it.
Imagine my surprise and sheer joy then when I walked across Walmart's car-park and heard the sweet squawk of a gull! I stopped, turned and gazed up at the bird sitting on top of a lamp post. It was a beautiful moment, but I do think the poor bugger was lost.
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