Tuesday, November 02, 2021 (November’s fullest moon [“Beaver”] rises on the 19th.)
A customer brought to my register a bag of pigeon food. While checking him out, I asked what pigeons he would feed.
“My own. I raise them.”
That seemed dear to my heart. “I love pigeons! I live with a retired racing pigeon.”
The man smiled, “Retired pigeon?”
“Well, he’s a failed racer. He landed in a friend’s barn while racing across the state.”
“How’d anybody know he was a racer?”
“My friend traced his leg tags. They took him to a pigeon racing association… “
The man interrupted, “To the bird’s owner, and that owner didn’t want him.”
He shook his head sadly, “The bird probably wasn’t tired and didn’t fail. More likely, he got off course and landed to reorient himself.” He sighed, I used to race pigeons, and that can happen, but isn’t a reason to discard a bird’s potential.”
My turn to nod, “Gilbert has taught me lots about pigeons. I think they’re super birds.
He smiled, “They’re also sweet birds.” He picked up the bag of food, “And they’re calming.” He paused, “Don’t you find them so?”
“Yes, I love their sounds.” He nodded and I couldn’t help adding, “But then, don’t forget molting seasons! Gilbert raises his wings and shakes feathers, by the billions, in all directions.”
We laughed. The man held up a hand, saluted slightly, and left the store.
That got me considering more about my bird. Gilbert mostly is quiet, but early in the mornings, like now as I write, his sounds provide a gentle background–not owl-like and hootie, they’re more like little rumbles.
That kind man was correct. Gilbert is a relaxing housemate.
*Pigeon is French for dove, both refer to a single bird type.
Dear Friends: Pigeons are gentle and accommodating, and small wonder often well-loved. Diana