I have a love-hate relationship with seagulls. Living by the seaside, as I do, I would not be without the herring gulls’ screeching call to remind me where I am. But they are aggressive, thuggish birds that do not think twice about attacking old ladies and children with chips and ice creams, so I prefer to keep them at arms’ length.
Despite my reservations about these winged villains, it was a snowdrop going by the name Galanthus ‘Seagull’ that tempted me to part with £20 on Sunday. For that princely sum I acquired one beautiful specimen, complete with black plastic pot, compost and label. Spending that much on a plant comes with quite a sense of responsibility. For the foreseeable future Mr Seagull will remain in solitary confinement, holed up in the relative safety of my new, miniature greenhouse where his flowers can’t be splashed with soil, or the bulb chomped by squirrels. Unlike the flighted version I doubt this particular seagull would survive for long in the wild, and for now I prefer to keep it where I know it can’t upset old ladies or children.