Just a seabird or the flying herald of storms and doomed mariners?

As we live some 30 miles inland, the sighting was interesting even if it was not particularly remarkable. Gulls of various kinds are frequent visitors to inland areas, somehow managing to locate fields which are in the process of being ploughed or making good use of temporarily flooded areas and permanent inland waters.

There is a long-standing belief that the presence of gulls far inland is a sign of impending bad weather, but I am never sure whether this suggests the storms will be at sea or on the mainland.

If the storms are to be along the coast or out to sea, then it would make sense for the birds to take refuge within the calm of the countryside, but it does not make quite so much sense for the birds to fly away from the sea into more storms elsewhere.

I think the old belief was that the birds headed for the safety of the countryside when they instinctively realised that storms were about to break out at sea, but quite often those storms then headed inland too.

Country people were always wary of forthcoming bad weather if they spotted gulls inland and there was an old verse which went: "Seagull, seagull, get thi on t'sand. It'll nivver be fine while thoo's on t'land."

Seagulls were also subjected to other superstitions. Along the east coast, there used to be a belief that they contained the souls of dead fishermen and sailors, especially those who had drowned at sea. It was another strong belief in some coastal communities that when old seamen died, their souls were absorbed by seagulls and it was therefore unlucky to kill a gull.

How long it took for the soul of a dead seaman to leave the corpse and enter a seagull's body is not stated, but it used to be thought that if a seagull was flying along a very straight course without diverting from its route, it was following the dead body of a seaman who had recently drowned.

Although the body might be invisible to human eyes, the seagull could follow its path upon the waves or even beneath them and some thought the seagull in question contained the soul of that same dead man. The soul was unable to rest until the man had been given a proper burial.

There was also a belief that if three gulls were flying overhead together, it was an omen of death, either for the person who saw them or for someone closely associated with that person.

Similarly, it was generally considered an ill omen if a seagull flew into a window pane, and some people regarded this as a warning that something awful was about to happen to a member of the family while at sea.

In similar vein, there used to be a curious belief among the fisherfolk of the Bridlington area. Some believed that sea anemones turned into herrings over a period of time.

I have no idea how or why this odd belief persisted, but sea anemones used to be known as herring-shine. I am not sure to which type of sea anemone this used to apply because there are lots of remarkable and fascinating varieties.

Poor man's weatherglass is a term once widely used throughout this country to describe a charming flower, although in some areas the plant in question might be called shepherd's weatherglass, shepherd's watch, ploughman's weatherglass, weather flower or even weather-teller. It was also known as the shepherd's clock, shepherd's sundial or twelve o'clocks.

We might know it better as the scarlet pimpernel, "a humble wayside flower" according to some, even if many of us will forever associate it with the Baroness Orczy's novels about the French Revolution.

In her ever-popular story The Scarlet Pimpernel, this was the secret name given to her hero, Sir Percy Blakeney, and he became known as "that damned elusive pimpernel".

This wild flower is widespread throughout Britain and other parts of the world. In this country, it blooms between May and August and is easily recognised due to its small, but very bright red, flowers.

It seems to thrive almost anywhere and has long shoots which spread themselves around it, each with shiny but stemless leaves along their length.

The flowers grow on long stems from those shoots and have five petals which overlap one another. Although most pimpernel flowers are a brilliant scarlet, there is a pale blue variety and they can even be white, pink or lilac.

The scarlet pimpernel has a curious habit of only opening its flowers between certain times of the day. This is why it has local names which link it to clocks and sundials. The flowers open at about 8am and close again at 3pm or thereabouts. In addition, they are very sensitive to the temperature and dampness in the air, so they close in dull or wet weather.

Quite clearly, a flower with such talent was highly esteemed by our ancestors and it was thought able to cure madness and bring happiness to sad people.

In Ireland, it was known as the blessed herb, with some people thinking it gave them second sight if they held it, while others believed the plant enabled them to understand the language of birds and animals.

There is no doubt it possessed herbal values, being used against toothache, snake bites, inflamed kidneys and liver complaints, although in a few cases the leaves, if touched, could cause dermatitis.

Generally, however, it was thought to make people happy, hence its common name of laughter-bringer.

Today is the feast day of St Oswin, who was cousin of St Oswald, the famous seventh-century King of Northumbria. Oswald gained fame by defeating the Welsh king, Cadwallon, in a battle near Hexham to regain the kingdom of Northumbria.

While he was in exile, however, Oswald spent time on the island of Iona, after which became a Christian. As king, he wanted to spread the faith among the people and appointed St Aidan as leader of his party of evangelists.

An example of Oswald's generosity came when he encountered three beggars and promptly handed them his dinner on a silver dish. This was witnessed by St Aidan, who said: "May this hand never perish." Oswald had been in power for only eight years when he was attacked by the heathen King Penda of Mercia and killed at Maserfelth, which might be Oswestry.

Upon his death, the southern part of Northumbria was ruled by his cousin, Oswin. The Venerable Bede described Oswin as handsome in appearance and courteous in manner, with many qualities, including virtue and moderation, the greatest of which was his humility.

The area ruled by Oswin included much of Yorkshire and there is little doubt he was considered a good and wise ruler. Indeed, St Aidan said of Oswin: "He will not live long - I never saw so humble a prince and this people is not worthy to have such a ruler." Aidan's words were to prove correct.

Another cousin, Oswy, was determined to rule the whole of Northumbria - that part of England which lay north of the River Humber and extended up to the Scottish border, hence the name North Humberland. A henchman of Oswy attacked Oswin at Gilling near Richmond in 651 and killed him. Oswy therefore became the king of North Humberland and it was his cousin, Hilda, who became the famous abbess of Whitby Abbey. Oswin's unfortunate death meant that he was revered as a martyr and his story is still told more than 1300 years later. We remember him especially today.

I came across a lovely tale of tourists this week. Two women were travelling on a bus and one told the other she had been to Scotland for her holidays. "Which part of Scotland did you visit?" asked her friend. "Durham", said the other.

This is rather like a visitor who went into a North York Moors National Park centre to ask: "What time do the moors open?"