WATCH OUT FOR THE REALLY AGGRESIVE SEAGULLS
RUINED BEAUTY AND BOLD BIRDS [ST MARY'S ABBEY IN HOWTH - JANUARY 2018]
The rugged peninsula of Howth, just a short trip from Dublin city, offers no shortage of breathtaking views, but for a photographer, the ruined majesty of St. Mary's Abbey is a genuine treasure. I was there on 22 January 2018 to capture its crumbling stone walls and atmospheric graveyard, a location that offers both serene beauty and, as I’ve found, a touch of wild drama.
A Thousand Years of History
The present ruins of St. Mary's, perched dramatically above Howth village, mostly date back to the late 14th or early 15th century, though a church has stood on this spot since the Viking era of 1042. Wandering among the walls, you feel the weight of history, especially at the site of the splendid effigial tomb of Sir Christopher St. Lawrence, a 15th-century Baron of Howth. It’s a photographer’s dream, with intricate stonework framed by the expansive Irish sky.
The Scars of the Storm (2011)
Like many ancient structures, St. Mary's is subject to the unforgiving Irish weather. The abbey and its surrounding cemetery faced a serious crisis back in October 2011. Following intense storms and severe flooding, a section of the graveyard wall collapsed. The sheer force of the water flowing down the hill tragically exposed and washed away interred remains, both old and modern.
This devastating event necessitated the closure of parts of the site for significant repair and restoration work. It serves as a powerful reminder of how fragile these historic buildings are in the face of nature’s raw power. Even when you visit years later, the scars of that serious storm damage are visible in the careful remediation work that’s been done.
The Seagull Conundrum
Beyond the history and the ruins, St. Mary's offers an unexpected wildlife spectacle: its incredibly bold and aggressive seagull population.
While I haven't personally been targeted on my recent visits, I've seen other visitors to the graveyard harassed, and I recall a particularly strange incident from January 2009. A woman who was annoying me by following me into the graveyard after I declined to photograph her was promptly attacked by gulls.
The aggression is striking, and it raises a question: why are these birds so confrontational, even outside the main nesting months?
The answer lies in their urban adaptation. While the peak of territorial aggression is during the breeding season (April/May to August) when they are fiercely protecting their chicks, these gulls have become dependent on human food waste. They view coastal towns like Howth as a giant year-round buffet.
Food, Not Nests: If you visit outside of summer (like I did in January), the attacks are typically about food scavenging. The birds are bold and relentless, and they have lost their natural fear of humans.
Trigger Warning: Anyone carrying food, or even behaving erratically (perhaps like the woman I encountered!), can be perceived as a threat or a meal ticket. They haven't necessarily adjusted their breeding seasons, but they have absolutely adjusted their behaviour to aggressively pursue food from us at any time of year.
For photographers, it means keeping an eye on the sky and moving calmly! It's a reminder that even in a place of ruined peace, nature remains wild and highly opportunistic.
The rugged peninsula of Howth, just a short trip from Dublin city, offers no shortage of breathtaking views, but for a photographer, the ruined majesty of St. Mary's Abbey is a genuine treasure. I was there on 22 January 2018 to capture its crumbling stone walls and atmospheric graveyard, a location that offers both serene beauty and, as I’ve found, a touch of wild drama.
A Thousand Years of History
The present ruins of St. Mary's, perched dramatically above Howth village, mostly date back to the late 14th or early 15th century, though a church has stood on this spot since the Viking era of 1042. Wandering among the walls, you feel the weight of history, especially at the site of the splendid effigial tomb of Sir Christopher St. Lawrence, a 15th-century Baron of Howth. It’s a photographer’s dream, with intricate stonework framed by the expansive Irish sky.
The Scars of the Storm (2011)
Like many ancient structures, St. Mary's is subject to the unforgiving Irish weather. The abbey and its surrounding cemetery faced a serious crisis back in October 2011. Following intense storms and severe flooding, a section of the graveyard wall collapsed. The sheer force of the water flowing down the hill tragically exposed and washed away interred remains, both old and modern.
This devastating event necessitated the closure of parts of the site for significant repair and restoration work. It serves as a powerful reminder of how fragile these historic buildings are in the face of nature’s raw power. Even when you visit years later, the scars of that serious storm damage are visible in the careful remediation work that’s been done.
The Seagull Conundrum
Beyond the history and the ruins, St. Mary's offers an unexpected wildlife spectacle: its incredibly bold and aggressive seagull population.
While I haven't personally been targeted on my recent visits, I've seen other visitors to the graveyard harassed, and I recall a particularly strange incident from January 2009. A woman who was annoying me by following me into the graveyard after I declined to photograph her was promptly attacked by gulls.
The aggression is striking, and it raises a question: why are these birds so confrontational, even outside the main nesting months?
The answer lies in their urban adaptation. While the peak of territorial aggression is during the breeding season (April/May to August) when they are fiercely protecting their chicks, these gulls have become dependent on human food waste. They view coastal towns like Howth as a giant year-round buffet.
Food, Not Nests: If you visit outside of summer (like I did in January), the attacks are typically about food scavenging. The birds are bold and relentless, and they have lost their natural fear of humans.
Trigger Warning: Anyone carrying food, or even behaving erratically (perhaps like the woman I encountered!), can be perceived as a threat or a meal ticket. They haven't necessarily adjusted their breeding seasons, but they have absolutely adjusted their behaviour to aggressively pursue food from us at any time of year.
For photographers, it means keeping an eye on the sky and moving calmly! It's a reminder that even in a place of ruined peace, nature remains wild and highly opportunistic.
ST MARY'S ABBEY