Pigeon
A little pigeon kind of half flew, half careened onto the upstairs patio about five minutes into a squirmy meditation.
We couldn't figure out if the wee one was hurt, new out of the nest or what, but it struck us that we'd never, ever seen an itty bitty pigeon before.
Our experience with wobbly critters who 'land' near us have not been altogether wonderful.
We might've done the wrong thing - before.
We got up slowly and the little bugger only semi vapor locked: good sign.
We hoped it was from mellowness rather than being wounded.
Made our way in to return with a big fluffy pigeon catching towel.
The gentle bullfighter motion designed not to frighten, but softly corner.
We can't be sure if we imagined this part, but a long moment of eye contact seemed to help.
He turned to face the corner he was in - it was almost comical. And precious. As if he was saying,
"Look. I'm either going to be lunch or you're going to help me. This position will enable either action."
And like that he let me wrap him in the towel without the flailing, flapping fear that's characterized nearly every one of our previous "rescues".
He was soooo itty bitty, we could not feel him at all and fancied a magic trick in reverse: instead of yanking a bunny out of a hat, we disappeared a miniscule birdy in a giant bath towel. We raised it to the ledge of the small patio, carefully unfolding the package, gave him a whooshing motion and...
He flew! Finely, happily and without a limp in his gait or whatever you call addled flight.
We're big on serendipity, perhaps too much so. But for this? We'll take it.
And by " it", of course, we mean a pocket of existential angst being blown to smithereens just by one birdy liberation.
No, we don't have a photo. We're even relieved that we had the time to get the phone/camera and elected to live, just then, completely undocumented.
One tiny regret: Seeing a pigeon that small felt like catching a leprechaun.
Carry on.
We couldn't figure out if the wee one was hurt, new out of the nest or what, but it struck us that we'd never, ever seen an itty bitty pigeon before.
Our experience with wobbly critters who 'land' near us have not been altogether wonderful.
We might've done the wrong thing - before.
We got up slowly and the little bugger only semi vapor locked: good sign.
We hoped it was from mellowness rather than being wounded.
Made our way in to return with a big fluffy pigeon catching towel.
The gentle bullfighter motion designed not to frighten, but softly corner.
We can't be sure if we imagined this part, but a long moment of eye contact seemed to help.
He turned to face the corner he was in - it was almost comical. And precious. As if he was saying,
"Look. I'm either going to be lunch or you're going to help me. This position will enable either action."
And like that he let me wrap him in the towel without the flailing, flapping fear that's characterized nearly every one of our previous "rescues".
He was soooo itty bitty, we could not feel him at all and fancied a magic trick in reverse: instead of yanking a bunny out of a hat, we disappeared a miniscule birdy in a giant bath towel. We raised it to the ledge of the small patio, carefully unfolding the package, gave him a whooshing motion and...
He flew! Finely, happily and without a limp in his gait or whatever you call addled flight.
We're big on serendipity, perhaps too much so. But for this? We'll take it.
And by " it", of course, we mean a pocket of existential angst being blown to smithereens just by one birdy liberation.
No, we don't have a photo. We're even relieved that we had the time to get the phone/camera and elected to live, just then, completely undocumented.
One tiny regret: Seeing a pigeon that small felt like catching a leprechaun.
Carry on.
posted by Dustin at
6:05 PM 
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