Seagulls
The Spy Who Came in from the ColdSeagulls are a recurring natural image in two scenes that frame Alec Leamas’s recognition of the value of ordinary care. First, he watches Liz Gold feed them on a beach and understands what her presence has given him; later, as a storm gathers and she is gone, the gulls wheel above the sea while he agrees to proceed with the operation. They are not independent agents in the narrative, but their ordinary presence gives tangible form to what Leamas hopes to recover and what his work threatens to take from him.
The Beach Scene and Ordinary Care
During the third day of waiting, Leamas goes for a walk along the seafront. He sees a girl, her back turned, breaking bread for the seagulls. The sight makes him understand that Liz has given him a concern for small things and a faith in ordinary life: the simple act of carrying bread to the beach and feeding the birds. He connects this respect for triviality with the life he has not been allowed to possess, whether expressed as kindness to gulls or as love.
The birds matter here through a modest, practical gesture rather than through any dramatic action of their own. Feeding them gives Leamas a concrete image of a life organized around care instead of intelligence work. He imagines returning to England, finding that ordinary life again, and asking Liz to help him find it. The scene’s quiet scale—the bread, the paper bag, the beach, the birds—stands against the clandestine world from which he hopes to escape.
Storm, Absence, and Return to the Operation
Later, as Leamas speaks with Ashe, a storm gathers over the grey North Sea. He watches the gulls wheel against the dark clouds and sees that the girl has gone. After considering the weakness of the story he could tell and the limited value of Ashe and Kiever as additions to it, he finally agrees to have the plan arranged. There is no flight east that night, so the pair will take a flight to Berlin instead.
The second appearance alters the emotional force of the first. The gulls remain, but the figure whose feeding made them part of Leamas’s imagined ordinary future is absent. Their movement against the storm accompanies his decision to return to the operation, setting the promise of a life beyond the Circus beside the immediate demands of the work. The book does not present the birds as symbols with a fixed, independent meaning; their significance comes from the contrast between the humane routine they first accompany and the dangerous course Leamas resumes.

