I am the pigeon.
Well, that sounds a bit pretentious, dunnit? One bird, laying claim to being the epitome of an entire type? An individual claiming to be an archetype? Go on wit’ you.
And yet . . . “I am a pigeon” doesn’t quite seem to capture the affect. The serenely self-confident stance. The sublime disregard for any nearby plebes, avian and human alike.
No, we had it right at the outset. This is the pigeon.
Sounds like a Neil Diamond song: “I am, I squawked…” Or cooed. Or something.
Jim T – 🙂 Yes, that would have been a good musical link. I don’t think of those beyond the obvious.
Beautiful picture! Thanks.
Tom
Tom – Many thanks.
You have captured “the Look,” which I have failed to appreciate until now. Perhaps that stance has something to do with the prevalence and universality of their habitat? The lavender touch is more attractive than I had noticed. The familiarity of the bird has bred a kind of ignorance in me. That tendency is something to ponder.
Laurna – A dozen years ago I wrote about this very thing. I hunch that dismissing the commonplace is part of what allowed us to survive in an unpredictably dangerous world – but it doesn’t serve us well for the purposes of appreciating said world.
Isabel – “I am the sky rat”, works better for me as opposed to, “I am the pigeon.”
In case you hadn’t guessed, I hate pigeons and the mess they create.
John – I hear you about the mess, but they eat more garbage and rotting bits than they excrete, so there’s that.
I am the egg man
They are the egg men
I am the walrus
Goo goo g’joob, goo goo goo g’joob
Goo goo g’joob, goo goo goo g’joob, goo
Joob, joob, jooba
Jooba, jooba, jooba
Joob, jooba
Joob, jooba
Barbara – 🙂 Yup.