1) In all honesty, I had neither heard of this book before this year, nor read any works by Tim Dee, the author, before, but the title was enough for me to order a copy from Amazon. Landfill: Notes on Gull Watching and Trash Picking in the Anthropocene, published in 2019 from Chelsea Green Publishing, contains a series of essays that range in topics from the aforementioned gulling and dumpster diving, to musings on taxonomy, reflections on Borges’ writings, and analyses of the author’s own life. If there is one theme that times these essays together, it is the role we as humans have engineered in simultaneously placing trash—or, perhaps more eloquent term, rubbish—at the very center of our current existence, and casting it out of sight in peripheral landfills. Fortunately, we have gulls to remind us of our rubbish.

Many of us merely acknowledge gulls as scavengers and seabirds. Birders, I’ve learned, loathe the term seagull, for it neglects their more complicated nature in venturing inland away from any sea. Certainly, the gulls around Lake Michigan are not seagulls. We should call them lakegulls instead. To be fair, I am not as offended by the term seagull, as it’s a colloquialism and does capture human’s previous experience with these birds as they sailed the oceans and seas to new lands. I look forward to seeing them whenever visiting the seaside towns along the US coasts.

2) How did gulls become associated with rubbish and inland migration? Again, we have ourselves to look at. We have made a lasting impact on our environment by producing and amassing rubbish. With so much to discard, we’ve had to place this in prominent mounds. (Mt. Trashmore, anyone?) The decaying foodstuff attracts animals in search of an easy meal. Thus, gulls enter our lives. For most people, they are the most common birds encountered on a daily basis, and are not often thought of as welcomed neighbors.

Gulls are an extension of ourselves, in a way. Herring, Ring-billed, Laughing, Western—many of the fifty-plus species co-habitat with humans near water and inland. They pick up after us, occasionally stealing our fries. They next in parks, on roofs, near harbors. They relieve themselves wherever they please, with a particular penchant for automobiles and shirts. They are, for better or worse, our constant reminders that we belong in the animal world, not separate from it.

Another question this book raises centers on debris. What exactly is rubbish? Is it solely the physical remnants of our meals or the detritus of used items? Yes…sort of. It also carries the weight of previous generations and memories. We like to think of ourselves as humans in a constant state of evolution and renewal. We aren’t. To paraphrase Harold Bloom, we are straddled by a constant anxiety of influence of our ancestors. There’s so much of it, we either have to burn it or store it.

3) What to make of all this? To be honest, I don’t know. Recycle more? Watch gulls attentively? I, for one, was encouraged to study gulls by reading Gulls of the World, by Klaus Malling Olsen, and Gulls Simplified, by Dunne and Karlson, to better appreciate our companions. They will forever remain a headache, as taxonomists argue over what is a species or subspecies. Gulls confound birders with their yearly molts and prolonged maturation. I cannot tell you how many times I have merely ignored a whole flock of gulls on the Milwaukee River in winter, because I couldn’t tell a first-year winter Ring-billed from a second-winter Herring. Now, I am up for the challenge!

I always thought of myself as environmentally conscious, but I guess I need to do more work.

I should also read more Borges.

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4) As for the book itself, it is a fun read, even if it is a bit slow and ponderous at times. It is best approached on a daily basis: Literally, a chapter a day to muse over Dee’s musings. (Yes, that was intentionally.) Though I might not re-read this book, I would encourage others to look at it.

Happy gulling and recycling!

Final recommendation: Read it!

Final rating: 3.5-4.0 / 5.0 Starts