Friday, September 5, 2014

The Birdies...

Yesterday, in the early afternoon, two fledgling pigeons landed on the deck railing of the little gazebo near the steps down to the sand, and didn't leave. From time to time, one or the other of them would flutter up to the roof the the structure and flap around confused. They must have come from a nest hidden up there and couldn't figure out how to get into it. We'd seen older pigeons fly up there and disappear.

So the two of then sat on the railing. They were so young that they had no fear of us and one walked right up to where Mimi was sitting and seemed to be trying to communicate something. All afternoon and into the evening, they stayed there, huddled together most of the time, waiting...for what I don't know.

Bern gave them a bowl of water and they seemed as content as pigeons get what with their head bowing and all. Siblings, I'm sure, and staying close together.

The reason you never see 'baby' pigeons is that they stay in the nest longer than most any other bird. These two obviously weren't used to being out too much and hung around until it was totally dark. I went to be about 11 and they were still there, wing to wing, cooing softly.

This morning they were gone--some instinct clicked in and they must have flown away together.

Just a few minutes ago, sitting on the deck, I looked up to the roof of the house and saw several pigeons sitting there, as they are wont to do. The two to the right, I was sure, were our two birds, smaller than the others and sitting nestled against each other.

I started to point them out to everyone but I had fretted about the two birds more than anyone and thought the other humans would think I was getting soft in the head if I kept catching glimpses of those two birds.

Tomorrow we leave and drive north. By this time (3:30 or so) we'll be well into Virginia and looking for the exit for out motel. Sunday, we'll be home. Those two pigeons, if God is kind, will still be here, growing up.

I'll think of them from time to time. But even I am not sentimental enough to imagine they might think of me....

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.