Two days ago, while billy-goating about on the hummocky cliff-walls around the observation booth, I let a small rock loose under my feet. It rolled down to the water, picking up pits of pebble and dust as it tumbled towards two largish boulders on which some forty smallish black birds were all lined up, turning their heads back and forth. The birds all startled at once, flew up in flurry, and headed as a flock out to the water. There, some 50 feet from shore, about ten or twelve of the birds winked out of the flock and out on the surface of the water, while the rest of the flock turned and, drawing a figure eight flew back above the rocks, where about eight or nine dropped out of the flock and onto the original rocks, while the rest of the flock wheeled about and turned back out the the water, closely following their original arc. There, another six or seven joined their friends, while the flock wheeled about, following very closely along the figure eight they had traced the first time, and dropped four or five more off on the rock, and so on. Six figure eights they drew, (or, more precisely, six times they retraced one figure eight), dropping birds off at both extremes, until there were only three birds, and one dropped off to the water, and another came off on a rock, and the last one went out above the water and, ignoring the squeaking pleas of it's compatriots, flew back above the rock, where, ignoring the squeaky pleas of his compatriots on rocks one and two, flew to rock number three, quite exactly on the trajectory of the flock's figure eight, landed, fluffed its wings, and set to preening himself pretty.
I like patterns. So it was an honor to be thusly introduced to the Chistik (чистик), or Guillemot.
The chistik is by far the dandiest bird on our island. The chistik wears black suits, tastefully trimmed on the wings with white highlights, a bit whiter and brighter on the males. Chistiks have a likewise tastefully proportioned head and neck and torso and carriage. Very handsome.
The one and only rebuke I can make to their style is that their brilliant red legs and feet are just a tad too big. It is as if when they went shopping for legwear in Nature's boutique, they saw these simply fabulous widely-webbed stockings that they absolutely had to have, and even they weren't quite the right size, where else were they going to find the color that matches the red of the inside of their mouths quite so perfectly?
Being dandyish, they are very social. I have not seen them build nests or burrow or raise young or do anything but mill around visibly on rocks, lined up in neat rows, preen themselves, strut a little on their too-wide-webs and occasionally squeak to each other on all sorts of topics. The bulk of their voice is just above the range of semi-empiricist hearing, but I could just make out the gist of a conversation. The merits of a purplish sheen to the down layer were being debated. As far as I could tell from an ever-so faintly contemptuous tone, it was just past the prime of it's popularity.
But then, my chistik is rusty. Besides, it's improper to eavesdrop.