January 3, 2010. These birds couldn’t have cared less how close I came to them. It was cold and they were alone, trying to catch the warming rays from what little sun there was on the steps of the 33rd Street Post Office. The soft grey and purple of the chest feathers gathering just at the round of the breast, the bill tucked into this feathery mass. The bird to the right is almost a perfect cold weather pose and seems to be the only outward looking bird, maybe aware of this human mass approaching it – with no outstretched hand to offer sustenance.
Monday, January 4, 2010
THE LONELINESS OF PIGEONS
January 3, 2010. These birds couldn’t have cared less how close I came to them. It was cold and they were alone, trying to catch the warming rays from what little sun there was on the steps of the 33rd Street Post Office. The soft grey and purple of the chest feathers gathering just at the round of the breast, the bill tucked into this feathery mass. The bird to the right is almost a perfect cold weather pose and seems to be the only outward looking bird, maybe aware of this human mass approaching it – with no outstretched hand to offer sustenance.
