To the southwest of mainland Iceland sits a group of islands, where the sea tosses and turns restlessly, and the wind whips one’s face till it turns bright red. It is known as Vestmannaeyjar, or the Westman Islands. It’s a paradise for the magnificent seabirds who live there. Over the crash of the sea and whistle of wind, you can see Common Murres in their neat dark brown-and-white plumage, uttering nasal trills. You can find Northern Fulmars soaring about, white against the blue of the ocean. However, there is a bird of Vestmannaeyjar that many people come looking for, and it is not the fulmar, nor the murre. Its sad, pitiful gaze and clumsy, waddling stride capture the hearts of tourists everywhere, causing people to flock to see it. It struts about the cliffs, neatly dressed in black and white plumage that is compared by many to a tuxedo. The bill of the bird--covered in vibrant bands of orange, dark gray, and a small amount of yellow--earns it the charming little nicknames “clown of the sea” and “sea parrot.” Most commonly, however, we call this bird the Atlantic Puffin, and some of us may know it by its Latin name as well: Fratercula arctica. What a fitting and affectionate name to give to such a lovely species, after all, fratercula arctica translates to “little brother of the Arctic.”

Puffin Overview

A male puffin from Vestmannaeyjar waddles about the cliff, passing his neighbors. His name is Seifur, and he’s one of the most charming birds around. He’s your typical puffin, with big, sad eyes, a classy little tuxedo, and a colorful beak. Sometimes, people compare him to a penguin, but in reality, Atlantic Puffins are members of a seabird family called auks, or, more formally, alcidae. This family includes birds like murres, auklets, murrelets, and guillemots. Most people are familiar with only one species of puffin--the Atlantic, but there are three other species that aren’t as well-known. The Atlantic Puffin is the smallest of the puffins. They measure 26-29 centimeters tall, and have a wingspan of 53 centimeters, about the length from my shoulder to my fist. They’re considered medium-sized seabirds, being between the sizes of an American Robin and American Crow. The Horned Puffin, the second largest of the four puffin species, looks the most similar to the Atlantic Puffin. It can be told apart from our more familiar puffin friends by the large amount of yellow on its bill. The Tufted Puffin is the largest species of puffin, and has two telltale blond feathers on its head. The last species of puffin is the Rhinoceros Auklet, the second smallest. Despite the name this bird has been given, it is really a species of puffin, and was misnamed due to its non-puffin-like looks. It gets the name “rhinoceros” from the knob that grows from its upper mandible.

Atlantic Puffins have long lifespans compared to other birds, generally living 20-25 years. Seifur is currently at the age of fifteen, and still has many more years to live. The longest living puffin recorded reached the age of 38. Seifur, being a hefty male, weighs 500 grams, about the weight of five apples. Atlantic Puffins have a wide range of weights; they can weigh from 310-550 grams. When looking at Seifur and his mate, Helga, it’s difficult to tell which one of them is which. Their plumages are the exact same. However, when they’re standing directly next to each other, you can tell that Seifur is slightly larger. Male puffins are generally bigger than the females, which is the only way to tell the two sexes apart.

Life at Sea

Seifur bobs on the surface of the water in the middle of winter. He’s entirely alone, no other puffins, or anything, for that matter, to be seen for miles. The sky is a vivid blue, almost fading to white at the horizon. The sun is shining brightly, casting yellow glows on the water. There’s just so much space, so much empty ocean Seifur has to himself. So much room to feed, so much room to live… Seifur takes to the air, flapping his wings wildly, then spreads them wide, flying over the vastness of the ocean. For most of the year, this is what the life of the Atlantic Puffin looks like. The only time they ever come onto land is to breed. Their breeding season only runs from May until August, so for ¾ of their lives, they live at sea. Outside of the breeding season, it’s very difficult to spot them, as each puffin has more than a square kilometer of the cold waters of the northern Atlantic Ocean to itself. This is why people rarely get to experience seeing an Atlantic Puffin’s winter plumage. Its winter dress is dull and drab compared to its summer plumage; some of the white feathers on its face grow darker, and its beak becomes narrower and loses the yellow bands. The winter plumage looks very different from the summer plumage, and is not as pleasing to look at. Good thing we get to observe the puffins when they’re looking their best! As well as changing color, an Atlantic Puffin’s feathers are also nearly airtight. Barbs and barbules on the feathers hook together, so air can’t escape. This feature helps the puffins to float and stay warm in bad weather. The feathers are also waterproof, which is helpful given that puffins spend a lot of time in the water. Puffins keep their feathers in good condition by preening. There is a gland underneath their tails that, when touched, releases oils that they spread all over their bodies, which keeps the feathers in good shape.

When Atlantic Puffins are at sea, they are solitary birds, and don’t interact with other puffins like they do during the breeding season. Instead of foraging with up to six other puffins like they do in the summer, they find food on their own. After the breeding season, puffins move extremely far from their breeding colonies. For example, a puffin breeding in Britain may migrate all the way to North Africa.

The Atlantic Puffin’s Range

Atlantic Puffins breed in many different areas of the world, including parts of eastern North America, Greenland, the coasts of northwest Europe, and the Arctic coasts of Scandinavia. Iceland is one of the best places to go to watch breeding puffins, as it’s home to 60% of the world’s puffin population. Within Iceland, there are many different sites where puffins can be observed. Vestmannaeyjar, which is one of these sites, is popular because it is home to a colony that consists of a fifth of the world’s puffin population. Thirty other different bird species also nest here. The Dyrhólaey stone arch, located on the southern coast of Iceland, also thrives with puffins. The ominous-looking black sands of the beach surrounding it are famous among tourists. The Látrabjarg Bird Cliffs, located in the Westfjords, are not only home to Atlantic Puffins, but several other species of bird as well, such as white-tailed eagles, gannets, guillemots, kittiwakes, and snipes. 40% of the world’s population of Razorbills, birds of the auk family, make the Látrabjarg Bird Cliffs their home. Grímsey Island, which has a human population of 100 but a bird population of one million, is the northernmost inhabited point of Iceland. The Arctic Circle runs right through it! Borgarfjörður Eystri is a place in eastern Iceland where 10,000 pairs of puffins nest every year. From a single spot, you can see 20 different species of bird.

Foraging for Fish

A black shape propels itself through the water, flapping its wings every now and then for a boost, and rotating its little orange webbed feet to steer. Followed by six of his friends, Seifur ventures deeper into the shallow waters near the huge breeding colony on Vestmannaeyjar. Although Atlantic Puffins are able to dive up to 200 feet, they would rather search for their tasty morsels in shallow water, and less than 10 miles from their colony. Moments ago, before he had dived, Seifur had pressed his feathers tight to his body, releasing the air kept underneath. Whenever puffins dive, they cannot have any air trapped beneath their feathers, otherwise they would float. They have muscles under their skin that allow them to press down their feathers and release it.

Tilting his little head this way and that, Seifur pursues a school of sandeel, a small, thin, silver fish, hoping to catch one and feed it to his young. Meanwhile, the chick is awaiting her meal in his burrow, eagerly shaking her fluffy, stubby wings and watching for Seifur to appear at the mouth of the hole. The diet of a puffin is made up of many different kinds of fish measuring from 2 to 6 inches, not only sandeel. Hake, capelin, herring, cod, and sprat are also on their menus. It’s been about ten seconds since Seifur has plunged into the water. Puffins can dive for up to a minute at a time, but most of the time, they only stay underwater for twenty-to-thirty seconds. Flapping their wings faster, the puffins charge forward, eyes fixed on the gleaming scales of their chicks’ dinners. They’re nearing the school at lightning speed. Seifur opens his beak, ready to grab some of the nearest fish. His mandibles help him to catch several at once. Seconds later, the group emerges from the water, each with new fish in their beaks. Seifur uses his tongue to push the food to the back of his mouth, and will hold it there while he catches more. As the puffins dive again, the backward-pointing spikes on the edges of their beaks keep the sandeel from falling back into the ocean.

Pairing Up and Building Nests

Finally! Seifur and Helga had finished digging out the burrow in which they’d nest. At the time, Seifur was five years old--he had just paired up with Helga this breeding season. Now, all that needed to be done was to gather grasses and roots for the nest. Helga walked a little ways away from Seifur, and plucked some grass from the ground. She handed it to him, who, after rubbing his beak against hers affectionately, disappeared into the burrow to place the grass inside.

Atlantic Puffins nest in colonies on sea cliffs. On land, there are more potential threats than at sea. Puffins choose to nest in cliffs that are remote, and sparsely populated, where there are fewer dangers. Each year, they return to the same colony in which they were born, and then have a chick of their own. Puffins usually make their nests in burrows, which they dig out using their beaks and clawed feet. Oftentimes, both the female and the male puffin will help in digging out the burrow, but the male will do more of the work. After the burrow has been dug, it will be reused by the same pair every year. They’ll refurbish the burrow each breeding season, digging out dirt, rocks, and grass. They’ll bring in materials like grass and roots for the nest, and sometimes give them to their partner, which helps strengthen the pair bond. In some colonies in the northern part of the puffin’s range, puffins will place their nests in crevices or under boulders instead.

Puffins usually mate for life, and almost never split up with their partners. Although it does happen occasionally, it’s very uncommon. Pairs will show affection by rubbing their beaks together, a behavior known as billing. You can hear the bills rattle and clack, and you can clearly tell that there is a strong bond between the two birds. This cute behavior shows one how affectionate puffins are to their partners. Little is known about how puffins pair up, because they often do it at sea. Some courtship displays that puffins perform include billing, head jerking, and bowing. Only the males jerk their heads, but both the male and the female bill and bow.

Interacting With Other Puffins

Grunting. Scuttling. Gaping. Crouching. Atlantic Puffins, like all animals, have ways of communicating with each other. From the territorial pelican walk to the affectionate billing, there are many different gestures representing different messages. In breeding colonies only, you can observe the Atlantic Puffins and their social behaviors, since they don’t interact with others of their kind at sea. Puffins are generally silent birds, but when they do call, they make deep, soft grunts, which make them seem even more gentle and sweet. Some of their calls are too low-pitched to be heard by the human ear. It is thought that since low sounds travel well through the earth, that puffins sometimes call from inside their burrows to keep digging puffins from digging into their properties. Let’s follow our puffin friend Seifur to see how Atlantic Puffins communicate with their neighbors. Most of the time, puffins like Seifur call whenever they are with their mates inside the burrow, or if they’re greeting their partner at the entrance of it.

When Seifur first arrives at the colony, the first thing he’ll do upon landing is crouch down, putting one foot in front of the other and keeping his wings outstretched. He’s doing this to show that he poses no threat to the other puffins. Sometimes, when puffins land, they fail terribly to adopt this posture, as they occasionally tumble and roll upon touching the ground. Afterwards, the clumsy little seabirds will get up and waddle away, as if nothing happened. When he’s moving through the colony, Seifur will crouch and walk quickly, also showing that he poses no threat. This is called the “low-profile walk.” Despite the fact that they seem to be friendly birds, there’s rivalry and fighting among them, just like every other animal. Whenever Seifur is protecting his burrow, and a rival of his lands nearby, there are two ways he can react. The first is known as the “spot stomp,” where he lifts his feet, alternating between right and left. The second--perhaps the most comical looking of puffin displays--is known as the “pelican walk.” Whenever Seifur pelican walks, he makes all of his movements exaggerated. His feathers are ruffled, his head pointing down. He stands straight up, and walks slowly and dramatically. To me, this looks like he’s showing himself off, almost as if to say, “Watch out, intruder, I’m stronger than you in every way. You shouldn’t even try to get near my burrow.”

Puffin Battle

An intruder at the burrow! Seifur begins to pelican walk around the entrance, hoping it’ll be enough to keep the other male away. To his horror, the other puffin inches closer to the burrow, ignoring the territorial display. How dare he! If the pelican walk isn’t enough to keep him away, there’s only one more thing to do. Seifur leans forward, ruffling his feathers, cocking his tail up, and last of all, opening his mouth. For good measure, he threatens the other puffin further by showing his tongue. The other puffin returns the aggressive gesture, sticking his tongue out even farther than Seifur had. This puffin couldn’t take a hint! He continues to walk forwards, until Seifur decides that simply displaying is not going to keep the intruder away anymore. He lunges at the other puffin, growling deep in his throat. The two puffins begin to claw and nip at each other, uttering noisy aggressive calls.

The key here is to knock him down, thinks Seifur, grappling with the other puffin. Then, he’ll be at a disadvantage, and I’ll win the fight!!! A bunch of other curious puffins gather to watch the battle, taking in the scene with wide eyes. Seifur gives the other puffin a hard kick in the stomach with his webbed, clawed feet, his heart giving a confident leap. The intruder tumbles over from the force of the kick, laying flat on his back with his rubbery legs in the air. Seifur rushes forward to show him once and for all who’s boss, but he quickly gets up and flies away, leaving Seifur with his burrow. The puffin spectators waddle off in a low-profile walk, going off to care for their own burrows. Seifur boasts his victory, heading home to make sure that no other rude puffins decide to intrude.  

Welcome to the Club

Years ago, when Seifur was only two years of age, he visited his breeding colony for the first time since he was a chick. He hadn’t come to breed, as he was too young. He was a member of the colony’s “club,” or group of nonbreeding birds. He, like the other puffins of his age, had come to learn all of the social customs that he’d have to know by the time he was old enough to breed. He hung around the colony, watching older puffins and learning, and performed wheeling flights with the other club members. Wheeling flights were one of the greatest things of being a club member. The club used to take to the air, sweeping in figure eights above the cliffs, over the sea. Seifur would cut through the air, the wind caressing his body, the sea crashing against the cliff underneath him. Every time he performed a wheeling flight, he thought to himself, What better way to learn how to behave at a colony than to be in a club.

Breeding

Helga incubated her egg inside her burrow. For several days, she’d spent a lot of time sitting, keeping her one and only precious egg warm. She’d been waiting an endless amount of time for the chick to--suddenly, a faint cracking noise sounded from somewhere underneath her. Curious, she stood up to see what it was. When she looked down, she noticed that a small hole had been punched in the eggshell. A tiny bill was poking out from the inside. Finally! The chick was going to hatch soon, after such a long wait! The bill began to poke about at the rest of the eggshell, breaking off bits and pieces of the brittle, white material. Later, a soaking wet, scrawny puffling, or puffin chick, emerged, her backside stuck in a half of the shell. She took a few clumsy steps forward, dragging the broken egg behind her. Blinking her miniature black eyes, she looked around the burrow, marveling at the world she’d entered. She spotted an adult puffin, Helga, nearby, and scuttled towards her with only one thought on her mind.

Mama! she thought, rushing forward to her mother, who put a protective wing over her. Soon, Helga would have to catch food for her, and before she knew it, the youngster would fly away from the burrow. One day, she’d even have pufflings of her own. For now, though, the puffling was still young, and would be cared for by her parents for weeks to come.

 Each year, a female puffin will lay a single egg, paper white and larger than that of a chicken. Sometimes, if the egg is somehow lost, the female may lay another. Just like most of the world’s birds, puffins have brood patches, or bald patches used for keeping the egg warm. The egg takes 36-45 days to incubate. The puffin pair must time their breeding so that the fish they feed to their young have arrived by the time the puffling hatches. When the puffling hatches, it’s covered in fluffy gray down, and is less helpless than other newborn birds. Its down offers it some protection, so when it hatches, it’s able to survive on its own when its parents aren’t in the burrow. Usually, with other bird species, the chick has to be brooded, or sat over like an egg for the first week of its life. The puffling remains in the burrow for 38-44 days, until it fledges. When a chick fledges, it’s able to learn how to fly for the first time. In that time, the puffling’s parents bring it fish to eat, first feeding it directly into its mouth, but later, simply dropping the fish into the burrow.

The Puffling Patrol

Seifur’s puffling is now old enough to live on her own. Leaving behind her burrow and parents, she launches herself off the cliff and into the night sky, wildly flitting her wings. The full moon casts a gleam over the tossing ocean. The puffling would normally rely on the moonlight to guide her out to sea, but there are brighter lights somewhere off in the distance. Thinking that she is following the correct light, the puffling flies in that direction. Soon, she finds herself landing on the street of a town, scared, lost, wondering why the lights hadn’t led her to the sea. The puffling was actually following artificial lights from the town of Heimaey, the town in Vestmannaeyjar. Oftentimes, pufflings flying from the cliffs on which they hatched get confused and end up following these lights, and become stranded in the streets of Heimaey, starving to death or being eaten by the town’s cats. The puffling runs about in fright, confused. Suddenly, a spot of yellow light is shone on her dusty gray feathers. She turns around, wondering where it had come from, to find a seven-year-old boy, holding a flashlight, wearing a headlamp, and standing next to his mother and father. His blue eyes widen with excitement when he sees who’s running about the streets of his town.

“Mom! Dad! Look, I found one!!!” the boy exclaims, pointing towards the puffling.

“Josep, what are you waiting for?! Let’s catch it!” yells the boy’s father. The family begins to run after the puffling, who tries to scuttle away on her rubbery, gray feet. She simply cannot run fast enough, and is gently scooped up by Josep, who presents his wriggling prize to his parents, who beam at him, clap, and praise him. Angrily, the puffling begins to nip at her captor, uttering calls. Josep doesn’t react with fear, anger, or pain, instead, he lifts the puffling until her head is near his mouth.

“I know that you’re afraid of me, little puffin,” he whispers to the bird, who flaps her wings madly to escape. “But there’s no need to be. I have no intention of hurting you. I want to return you to the sea, to where you belong. I promise I’ll bring you back to the ocean. I give you my word, I’ll never harm you. Never.” Obviously, the puffling doesn’t understand him, and continues to fight as he gently carries her with him. How dare this little boy seize her! She has no idea that he does intend to keep his promise, and will return her to the vast Atlantic Ocean, where she’ll spend her life flying through the cool, salty air.

Josep makes his way to the edge of the beach with his parents, gently holding the puffling he’d caught last night. “This is it, little puffin,” he says, looking into her beady black eye. “You’re going back to your home at sea now.” The puffling stares into the eyes of the boy who’d caught her, finding sincerity and kindness there. Maybe he isn’t as dangerous as she’d thought before. He’s holding her very gingerly, after all.

As Josep approaches the ocean, the puffling begins to flutter her wings eagerly, longing to get back to where she was meant to be. Stopping before the shore, Josep raises her high above his head. Her heart leaps when she realizes that she’s about to be released. “Goodbye, little puffin,” Josep sighs under his breath. “It was great meeting you. Go, have a wonderful life out on the water. I hope you’ll come back to Vestmannaeyjar to have chicks of your own someday. Maybe we’ll meet again, years later, when you’re all grown up. Even if we don’t, I’ll always remember you, little puffin. Now, are you ready to go? One…” As he says “one,” he thrusts his arms forward, seemingly about to throw the puffling. But he doesn’t. Not yet. “Two…” He pretends to toss the puffling once more. “Three!” On “three” he hurls the puffling like a football, who happily flies away, becoming a tiny black dot in the distance. As she makes her way out to sea, she thinks of the little boy who saved her from the frights of the town. She was entirely sure he’d do something to hurt her, but no, he’d only captured her so he could bring her back to where she belonged. She hopes to return to the kind boy someday.

Josep is not the only child who has rescued a puffling from his town and brought it to the sea. This is a tradition for all the children in Heimaey. Families run about the streets, searching for pufflings who have lost their way when flying away from the burrow. The children are usually the ones to catch and release the pufflings. All the kids who participate in this event are known as the Puffling Patrol. Before releasing the chicks they’ve caught, the children bring them to Saehaimar Aquarium, the local aquarium, where they’re weighed, their wingspans measured, and their puffin features recorded in a journal. They’re then given a tag and their own number. This spring, 5,000 puffins were tagged and released, all thanks to the help of the Puffling Patrol.

Threats to Puffins

It’s been a year since Seifur’s puffling has flown from the colony, and now it’s breeding season again. Seifur returns to his burrow after foraging for sandeel. Recently, there hadn’t been much luck with finding any. Seifur travels farther and farther from the colony each day trying to search for food, and always comes back empty-billed. All he could find today was herring. Entering the burrow, he finds his new puffling inside, weak and starving. She’s grown thinner and thinner over time, longing for some fresh sandeel. Seifur tries to feed the herring to his young one, but it’s simply too big for her to eat. Finding sandeel is hopeless now, and herring is the only thing that Seifur has. If the puffling won’t eat the herring, she’ll starve! Desperately, Seifur flies away from the cliff again to search some more.

Atlantic Puffins are not considered an endangered species, as they only have a “vulnerable” status according to the IUCN Red List. However, they do face multiple threats, which are causing their numbers to decline. The largest one of them all is change in the temperature of the water. Around Iceland, the water temperature is controlled by long cycles of the Atlantic Multidecadal Oscillation, where periods of warm water alternate with periods of cold water. The last cold cycle went from 1965-1995. The warm cycle is ongoing today. The change in temperature between the two cycles was one degree celsius. This sounds like a small increase, but it’s devastating to sandeel. Mackerel move farther north, to southern Iceland, and eat the zooplankton that make up the sandeel’s diet, causing their numbers to decline. Then, the puffins have much less sandeel to eat. When breeding season arrives, puffins have to fly farther and farther from the colony to find food for themselves and their pufflings. Adult puffins are dying for this reason, as flying is more energy-draining for them than for other birds. Their bones are not hollow, which makes flying more difficult. The pufflings are dying from starvation; in Iceland, 40% of them are losing body mass over time. Sometimes, adult puffins will attempt to feed their young herring that are too large to eat. Whenever a parent can catch enough fish for only itself or the chick, it lets the chick starve.

Although hunting is not a huge cause of puffin decline, it certainly does speed it up. In Iceland, puffins are a delicacy as well as a tourist attraction. There are multiple restaurants where puffin is listed on the menu. Hunters from Vestmannaeyjar travel to Grímsey Island for the traditional summer puffin hunt. In 2016, the puffin hunting season in Vestmannaeyjar, which was formerly five days long, was shortened to only three days long by authorities because of the breeding trouble caused by the change in water temperature. Therefore, the hunters now have to travel to the far north of Iceland to carry out the long-lived tradition. They catch puffins using a triangular net called a háfur, and use decoys to draw them closer. The eggs of the puffins are also gathered by hunters hanging in front of the cliffside on ropes, grabbing eggs from inside the burrows. The egging and hunting of seabirds has been going on since the age of the Vikings, when it was necessary for survival. Today, it’s a popular tradition among the Icelandic people.

Overfishing and marine pollution are two other threats the Atlantic Puffins face. Oil spills, discarded fishing nets, and toxic contamination are all types of pollution that are harmful to puffins. Sometimes, bad weather is also a problem for puffin population. During severe winters, puffins can drown at sea when strong winds make the waters rough. Great Black-Backed Gulls and skuas are predators of the Atlantic Puffin. As well as eating the puffins themselves, Great Black-Backed Gulls steal the fish that puffins catch, sometimes seizing a bird in flight until it gives up its food. For dealing with kleptoparasites, or animals that demonstrate the behavior of stealing food from others, puffins rely on safety in numbers, hoping that arriving at the same time will make it difficult for the kleptoparasite to focus on one puffin to rob. Other predators of the Atlantic Puffin include cats and rats that have been introduced to some of the islands on which they breed. Lundy, an island in England, had a severe puffin decline due to rats. In the year 2000, three and a half thousand puffin pairs decreased to only ten. Due to some of these threats, the puffin population in Iceland has plummeted from seven million individuals to only 5.4 million.

Conserving Atlantic Puffins

In order to slow the Atlantic Puffin’s decline, we can help conserve it in many ways. Educating others about this marvelous species is one of the ways we can help it, because people are more driven to conserve an animal that they’re familiar with. If we want to slow the decline of the puffin’s numbers, we can stop hunting and egging. Hunting and egging is very important to the people of Iceland, and it’s unlikely that they’ll want to stop doing it. If they can somehow be convinced that the conservation of this species is more important than culture and tradition, it could be helpful in bringing the Atlantic Puffin’s numbers back up. We can also control the amount of oil, fishing nets, and other waste we toss into the sea. Not only does ocean pollution harm puffins, but it also kills off other types of seabirds. By reducing ocean waste, we can help out multiple bird species. Next, we can stop overfishing and introducing cats and rats to the islands on which puffins breed. We definitely don’t want any more huge declines like the one that happened on Lundy. Last of all, the people of Heimaey can continue the Puffling Patrol tradition, so pufflings can be rescued from starvation and other dangers in the town.  

If the Atlantic Puffins are allowed to go extinct, Iceland will lose a lot of its income, as puffins are one of the main reasons people travel there. Whether Iceland loses money or not, who wants to let Atlantic Puffins go extinct in the first place? We’ll lose yet another of the world’s wonderous species. Imagine a world with these famous birds gone. What a shame it would be, to have no more Atlantic Puffins there to warm our hearts with their clumsy, pitiful ways. We should give them all the help we can, and be aware of how our activities can threaten them.

You’re a tourist visiting Vestmannaeyjar. You’ve come to Iceland to see the Atlantic Puffins. Your heart thumps with excitement as you watch seabirds of all sorts dart through the air. There are murres, fulmars, kittiwakes… the works! Birds are everywhere, flying through the air, bobbing in the water, walking about the cliffs. The ground is covered with Atlantic Puffins, waddling, ducking into burrows, fighting, billing. You watch their activities with fascination, marveling at the wondrous birds. One puffin in particular, standing near its burrow entrance, captures your heart and won’t set it free. It’s Seifur, the most charming of the puffins of Vestmannaeyjar. His eyes, big and sad, touch your soul. His black-and-white plumage makes him look so neat and formal.

Just like a tuxedo, you think. The vivid colors of his beak are brilliant, difficult to look away from. How beautiful this bird is. He feels to you like a sibling, someone related to you in some way. There’s only one way you can describe your connection to Seifur. Before moving on, you whisper, “Hello, my little brother of the Arctic.”

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