“Do they do that all day long?”
My friend, Casey, is pushing her daughter on the swing hanging from the roof of my back patio. Even without looking, I know what she is referring to. I can hear the stampede of wings. The pigeons have taken flight.
I glance at my neighbor’s roof, and sure enough, the pigeons are once again clustered there. They are milling around lost, as if they haven’t just performed an act of perfect synchronicity.
The birds do not land on any of the other houses, just this one particular roof. Do the occupants of the house feed them? Train them? I have no idea. But every five to ten minutes, the birds will take to the air, fly a perfect circle, and once again land on the roof, but usually on the opposite side. This twenty second performance takes place at least twenty times a day.
I’ve started watching them, hoping I can derive some secret from their activities. I listen to see if perhaps one bird caws to clue the others to liftoff. I study their milling wondering if perhaps there is a pattern that once achieved signals time for the next tiny journey.
Why do they do it? They can’t possibly be looking for food in that short duration. Clearly they have established a home. Why? Is it for the exercise? Merely a habit?
I have no idea, but I wish my video could somehow illustrate what a marvelous act it is to witness. A half minute of pure beauty in motion that, for me, is an every day occurance. Spectacular