I watch a seagull try to get a clam out of it's shell. It hasn't noticed me yet. It squawks furiously as another seagull comes to take it's prize. I smile as I watch them fight over it. They both seem to think that they, themselves, are three times bigger than the other. By this time others have joined the fight over the clam. Now there's at least ten seagulls out there, or maybe even twenty, or even more than that. A gigantic sea of grays and whites, all screaming their heads off. I try to keep in my laughter, so as not to scare them away, but I just can't help myself. I burst with laughter and the seagulls take off, all scattering in different directions. It's like I through a stone into a pond and they're the droplets of water splashing all about.
They each fly to a different perch, and fight to protect it. The weaker seagulls don't win in any fights, but they still keep trying. As I watch the seagulls, I see a lot in common with them and man. Everything's a contest. Someone has to always be the best. And like the seagulls we usually want that “someone” to be ourselves. Some of us, no matter what the odds, will do what ever it takes to be on top of the heap.