Teased by Two Rock Pigeons

The teasing began about noon today and continues as I write this entry. It began as I sat outside reclining on a wooden lounge under a white birch tree reading a book. I saw two whitish, pigeon-sized birds descending toward the pond, their wings whistling. They looked and sounded like pigeons--yet what business did pigeons have landing in water? I bolted upright in my seat, straining to see behind the tall grasses rimming the pond, just as said pair lifted again to the air.

How odd, I thought, returning to my book.

Later, I strolled about the pond, enjoying the warm, summer-like day. That's when the two pigeons flushed from the opposite bank, deep and dense with vegetation. Still here, then? I asked aloud. The idea that they found my yard hospitable was pleasant.

Later still, after having been in for awhile, I went out yet again, now inspired to capture images of the inhabitant in and around the pond--blue gill and dragonflies, to be precise. I was busy with this task when I looked up to find a Rock Pigeon perched upon the top of a weathered, neglected picnic table.

I was surprised because he (or she) did not fly off but watched me. I risked lifting the camera to take a shot . . . and still he stayed. Then I took another and another. Still the bird watched me. I began to talk to my visitor, approaching slowly, becoming convinced this was not a wild bird. I wasn't wearing my reading glasses but noticed now what looked like bands on his legs. I took a close up shot of his legs--and, yes, both were banded.

Apparently I was playing host to a pair of homing and/or racing pigeons. I walked away to get some sunflower seeds and crusts of hard bread to offer this unexpected guest, but when I returned, he or she was gone.

Oh well. At least I got lots of photos, I thought.

A bit later, out again strolling with the dogs (did I mention this was a lazy Saturday for me?), I sat on the ground trying to photograph a cricket on a leaf and what do you think happened?

One of the Rock Pigeons flew from its perch in a tall white pine. Apparently, they're still visiting and I couldn't be more pleased.

Till next time . . . keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne Butler