This morning on the way to work , I saw on the sidewalk, a
pigeon frantically hopping around. Next to him was a dead pigeon. The alive
pigeon looked so scared. He kept hopping all around the dead one and then
throwing his head around –almost to appear like he was yelling at passerby to
DO SOMETHING. HELP.
It was one of the saddest scenes I’ve ever seen.
I don’t know if pigeons feel grief. But this bird was
obviously terrified and devastated. And completely helpless. And it seemed to
want help. Or maybe just recognition for its dead friend.
I began to wonder if maybe the dead pigeon wasn’t dead, but
just terribly hurt. What could the other bird do in that situation? He was
helpless. Birds can’t doctor. They can’t administer medicine. He could only
watch as his friend lie there in pain.
It was awful.
And it’s filled me with great sadness this morning.
And yes, I know there are outrageous monstrosities happening
in the world every hour of every single day. But that doesn’t make this any
less sad. Sadness isn’t comparable. Sadness is just felt. And seeing those poor
birds this morning just gutted me.
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Tucked into the beams
that support the skyways near my office are nests where the pigeons sleep. They
also lay their eggs there. It’s the perfect spot. Completely covered from wind
and weather. As I walk to lunch, I can see them in there, sleeping or fixing up
their surroundings. Then a little while later the eggs appear, completely
helpless while mom is away finding more items for the home or gathering food.
Then one day, someone had put up spikes in front of the entrances to all of
these nesting areas. I don’t know what kind of damage the city believes these birds
were doing. They can still sit on the ledge of the skyway and lay waste
everywhere. Preventing them from entering their homes is not going to keep the
area any cleaner.
The worst part is that
they couldn’t get to those eggs. Imagine the devestation of those mothers
watching some human carelessly board up your home with no regard for your soon
to be children and there is nothing you could do about it. Eggs were left cracked
and rotting.
Somehow, some of the
birds still manage to get through the spikes and some eggs did hatch and now
there are little baby pigeons nestled away. I worry about them to the point
that I can’t even look anymore because I’m afraid of what other steps the city
may have taken to keep these birds from their homes.
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Pigeons are considered
the rats of the sky. I know they are unclean. I know they don’t care about me.
But, if you watch them close enough, you can see the little lives they’ve
built. Everyone’s just trying to get by and keep watch over the one’s they
love.
Everyone.
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