Sometime
I went for a walk down the avenue, towards the big park in the middle of the city. Near one of the intersections, there was a little boy jumping at a patch of pigeons who were bathing in some water that had collected where the street meets the curb. My pup thought the kid was trying to play with her and returned his instigation with a play-bow in the middle of the crosswalk.
I told her she’d assumed wrongly with a click of my tongue, and we continued through the smell of the halal cart and on down the row. When we got to the park, I let her off at a soft pad of grass and became a statue in the moving world around me.
Just ahead were some tourists - three grown men. I watched as they ambled, aimless and bored. Before long, one of the three, the one sporting a Gucci crossbody bag, spotted a pack of pigeons who were busy making lunch from some scattered bread. Suddenly with great purpose, he veered towards them, raised his arms above his head, and jumped at the birds. Just like the little boy on 125th.
I put my creature back on her leash.
Another time
As I was headed to class one day, I came upon a pigeon standing motionless on the corner of my block. It was right around the time of any late afternoon weekday when the buildings let out their various people from doing their various things. The sidewalks were busied with folks going to and fro.
Everyone slowed down a little, though, to take note of this grounded, unflappable bird. A couple of teenagers paused their whispered conversation and gave it a tiny ‘aw,’ along with a wide berth. A man on the phone wearing a blue sweatshirt and black sunglasses twisted towards the bird and lifted his elbow to the sky like a wing, which pulled his phone away from his face. It seemed like he was holding the device out to catch a final word. A little girl noticed the bird, and then noticed me noticing her notice the bird.
I moved towards my friend a little ways down the block from the scene. He mans the bottle return machines and supermarket receiving, so he keeps a constant and close survey of the goings on. We nodded hello and then back at the bird.
“He’s dying,” he said, “been like that for a few hours now.”
I kept nodding and continued to watch people regard the bird as they passed by.
No one jumped at the bird.
We touched our knuckles together.
When I passed back by on my way home from school, the pigeon’s lifeless body was at rest on the drainage grate, where the street meets the curb.
All the people were gone, too.
Loved the imagery! Park life is never dull. Thanks for sharing.
Our birds are friends to us human beings seeking to be humane.