I’ve developed an adversarial relationship with pigeons. Not all pigeons, mind you. I tend to enjoy my interactions with pigeons on the street. The generally just totter around, pecking to and fro, and don’t create much of a stir. Despite that persistent diminutive, “gutter hawk”, I do find beauty in their urban avian chic — purple irridesence on slate gray with intriguing blue-green splotches — they almost look to be on their way to the pigeon ball.
The pigeons of which I speak are not on the streets, however. They are on a narrow strip along the base of the third floor outside of my window. Directly outside and across from my window. Directly outside and across, “in excellent proximity to make my morning sleep a living hell”, from my window. I’ve tried to combat their insistent cooing with a diverse set of tactics. Throwing clothes and stuffed animals at my window to scare them. Spraying them with a water bottle to condition them. Pelting them with pennies to hurt them. Nothing has worked.
In the face of such tenacity, I had been become somewhat slothful, nearly resigning myself to their 6 o’clock greetings. For a week or two, their distraction even seemed to subside. But the denial, or adapatation, could not last. Spurred to action once again, preliminary research indicated that physical deterence was the only solution. I would have to make it physically impossible for my nemeses to sit outside my window.
It was with an eye towards the construction of a pigeon-proof barrier that I leaned out of my window on Sunday, only to discover a plot development that stopped me in my tracks:
So began the next great Pax Pigeonii. My arch-enemies had demonstrated that they, too, were human — or pigeon, as the case may be. Of course I knew this whole time that these birds were not trying to make me miserable. That misery was only a reaction to their natural, prosaic biology. The very manifestation of their biology, though, served an excellent reminder of such mundane beauty. This morning, Momma P’s soft calls were of a different order. Maybe I was hearing something new due to reproductive behavior. I suppose it could just as easily have been yet another emotional reaction.
Filed under: Nature
