IMAGE OF THE MONTH

JULY 2025

Lightfall on the Ledge

 At this lively seabird colony, I often find myself captivated by my favourite little puffins—their expressive eyes and whimsical charm always draw me in. But the cliffs are home to a far greater drama. Guillemots gather here in extraordinary numbers, nesting shoulder-to-shoulder in tight colonies, where each bird guards its own tiny beak-length territory.

Their nesting habits are astonishing: perched precariously on steep ledges, they lay pear-shaped eggs that cleverly resist rolling off the rock’s edge—a quiet marvel of evolutionary engineering.

One pair of guillemots had settled near the cliff’s rim, right where the evening sun cast a golden curtain behind them. Periodically, one would fly off to forage for their chick, leaving its mate as sentinel. The chick remained hidden from view—nestled just out of frame—but the adults’ reunion was unmistakable: a flap of wings, a soft vocal call, an ancient rhythm of recognition.

By mid to late July, the season shifted. Many guillemot chicks, just three weeks old, took the fateful plunge—leaping from the cliffs directly into the sea. Unable to fly, they swam bravely alongside their fathers, who guided them through restless waters toward a life of independence. It’s a bold beginning to a bond that continues far out at sea, where guillemots spend most of their lives as powerful divers, sometimes reaching depths of nearly 180 meters in pursuit of fish.

As the sun sank lower, the light grew gentler. What caught my eye was the translucence of the light filtering through their wings. In that fleeting moment, framed in gold, I saw not just seabirds—but the quiet dignity of life clinging to the cliff’s edge