Pigeons

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." -- Plato

When I was growing up in New York State, often on weekends we'd go to Ithaca to visit The Pigeon, which I thought was a strange name for a man. I was told never to call him that. Turns out he earned his name by buying up alot of my father's photographic equipment and overpaying, an easy mark. Also in Ithaca was Sapsucker Woods, another strange name.

Today I was back out in the country running. I rarely see a car on Sunday but a truck stops besides me. Oh-oh. Again I am alone and wonder if I am in some kind of danger. But the man has a big basket of pigeons: I watch as he releases them, about twenty of them. They fly in tight circles for awhile but then gradually head north, which was the correct direction. I assumed they were waiting for him to start the truck so they could just follow from above but he waited for the flock to be out of sight. They were 12 miles from home and in training. I asked if just one of them knows the way and the rest follow. No, they all can figure out the way.

Ms. Hummingbird enjoyed her new sugar water visiting every 10 minutes last night. As long as I sit more than 10 feet away, she is fine with that. Previous hummingbirds have been more bold flying right up to my face to inspect me especially when I wore my pink head cover. We sat  outside drinking sangria  enjoying her antics and then the solar light display, which has diminished quite a bit as my excess vegetation is blocking some of the solar panels.

Maya is one month old today. Hopefully I will get to see her soon.