The other day I was wondering why, with all the millions of birds in the world, you never hear of anyone being splatted with bird droppings. Maybe people have always talked about this and I just never noticed. Or maybe by thinking the thought I released some kind of fowl energy. Whatever, since the moment I had the thought I’ve been bombarded with bird talk. Take, for instance, the conversation of the folks at the table next to me this afternoon at the sidewalk cafe:
“It’s a hawk,” said the man.
“No, it’s a pigeon,” argued the woman.
“Hawk.”
“Pigeon.”
This went on for some minutes while I scanned the sky for said bird. No sign of it. I checked out the roof of the building. Nothing. Mind you, I was trying to be unobtrusive and act like I wasn’t listening to their conversation, so I didn’t want to look directly at them to determine WHAT bird they were talking about. Finally, out of the side of my eye I realized they were looking up. Everyone knows that it’s impossible NOT to look up when someone else is craning their necks, so of course, I looked up too. Perched in the tree directly above me was the biggest darned Pigeon I have ever seen.
I wasn’t even surprised when it happened. Splat! A direct hit on the big toe sticking out of my sandals. I did the best to wipe it off with the crumpled up napkins left over from my
lunch and headed off for my afternoon hike around town.
Within a few blocks my toes stopped feeling squishy and I resumed taking photos but at every turn I was confronted by birds. The building in
the above photo apparently has been fighting a battle of the birds for a long time. Every eave and gutter is lined with spiky metal prongs designed to deter the birds but it didn’t stop this Pigeon from making a tidy little nest – look at him checking me
out as I snap his photo, almost as if he is daring me to come up there and chase him out.
A little further along I chanced on this scene, straight out of Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds.” Getting WAY too freaky now – I think I’ll just go home and think happy thoughts the rest of the evening.
I’ve been “dirtied” on twice by birds, and once by a bat while night fishing. The first bird must have recognized the potential irony as it got me from the rafters outside of the mall I was entering to get a haircut. Right on my head! I tipped a little extra. My mother has a story something about standing under the wrong monkey wire on one of her school’s field trips to the zoo. So, I guess you can consider yourself lucky…just a toe!
those are mild as to what I have in my yard every afternoon at dog feeding time! we sometimes get as many as 30 or 40 lining the wires here in arizona, and they know when feeding time is.