Winter Feeding, Winter Nesting by Sutherland Staatz (read book .TXT) 📖

I paced, alone, hoping the very un-pigeon-like action would bring about some kind of solution. So far it was only bringing me a few curious looks from the other pigeons and a slight case of nausea.

I kept it up, though, sure something would come of it. Something eventually did. I saw it happening in one of the sidewalk trees- my inspiration for attack. One of those clever black birds was over a small nest doing... something to its contents. I flew to the tree to get a better look. Landing awkwardly on a branch, not too far from the nest, I settled in to watch.

The scene was messy. At first the bird looked over the edge of the nest and opened its mouth as a hen would feed her chicks. Instead of feeding them, the bird began to gobble up one of the chicks. I left before I saw any more. I flew right back to the roosting pipe: the safe, secure center of the colony.

But it wasn't secure, not nearly as secure as I'd have wanted it to be anyway. I heard something landing behind me and turned to see the clever black bird, the last entrails of the baby bird being gobbled up and slowed before addressing me.

"You there pigeon! You aren't planning on telling all your damned friends about my niche are you?" He demanded in a harsh voice, some blood flicking from his long black beak.

"N-no." Was all I could stammer. It was a rarity that crows spoke to pigeons and even more rare for them to speak to us on any kind of friendly terms.

"Oh what, too good for this kind of food?" He shoot back.

"No, it's just-" He cut me off, like the old bird, except with a sharp rasp that can only come from a crow.

"You damn pigeons are so naive, you don't even know your own power. Look at you trembling like that! You know that crows used to get all the best human grub before you guys just came in and breed and breed and breed-" This time I cut him off, my curiosity had overridden my fear.

"Human grub?" I asked.

"Those mammal things- look, if you guys stopped to figure some things out instead of clustering together in your own little world like a bunch of barley-wild chickens..."

"Chickens?"

"Never mind." He said twitching his head. "Just don't think of muscling in on my niche." He turned around and was about to take off when I got brave.

"Wait!" I said. "Have you noticed this sky-bird taking pigeons in flight?" I said attempting my most technical vocabulary.

"Sky bird? You mean the falcon? Yea, I've seen it, too bad it'll never be able to finish you all off though."

"But..." The black bird just shook it's head and took off.

I shook my feathers. Now I knew why pigeons didn't hang out by the roof's edge, why we don't pace and why we don't copy those mammals; there are things better unseen, conversations with imposable birds best un-had.

But what about that killer bird from the sky? I can't escape it by eating and defecating on the pipe all day! That clever bird's opinion of the situation couldn't be trusted; those types always had some trick or other going to cheat you out of something. And that old pigeon was just a nut. No there was as real problem here and it had to have a real solution.

There had to be something I was missing. Something that pigeons just don't do... Oh, attack! If I could get it before it gets me, then I'd be in the clear. The whole colony would be in the clear. I can't attack it directly, but the scene in the tree, with that vile black bird, that's the way. I'll kill its chicks. Than maybe we'll be safe when this sky-bird dies. Who knows? Maybe it will disappear just as some hens disappear when their nests are scattered.

I just had to wait for its next flight.

#

My eyes hurt from staring into a bright sky. My neck hurt from always looking up. I was hungry from days of searching the sky and not scavenging enough. I didn’t want to look away for too long; this bird was too fast for that. That gut-reaching scene just had to repeat itself. Something that can get its food right from the sky so effortlessly can’t just go away, it wouldn’t just go away. It had to be back.

Finally my vigilance paid off. I saw, for the second time, the sky-bird hit a pigeon in mid-air. This time, though, I didn’t go running for the nearest pigeon on the roof. This time I watched as the sky bird carried the poor, still struggling pigeon up to a window sill high up on the tall neighboring building. I looked at the spot where the sky-bird landed for a long time to remember it, and then began my journey to the top of the world.

#

I fell on a window sill part way up the building, completely exhausted. The other pigeon on the sill looked at me sideways.

“Strong wind?” the other bird asked.

“No, I have... I have to get to the top of this building.”

“What?”

“There‘s this bird and...” I stopped. I needed to save my breath. Pigeons don’t usually climb through the air and buildings on purpose preferring to just go to the next highest place where they feel secure, smell food or see hens. I didn’t need to describe what my mission was with someone who was just going to give me a blank expression. I didn’t need to sit next to him, either. As soon as I caught my breath, I began to climb again, stopping on window sills when I got tired.

I didn’t stop until I hit the window sill under the one with the nest on it. I huddled up against the window so that I couldn't be seen from the other sill and set my gaze at the sky. I settled in to wait for the sky-bird to leave, if the bird saw me it’d kill me just like those other pigeons. There would be no flying away.

The wait from the sill didn’t seem as long as it was back in the colony; maybe it was because I was close to finishing my task. I saw the sky-bird fly off to my colony to grab another poor pigeon. I immediately flew up to the nest.

When the nest came into view I almost missed a flap as I went to land: there were no eggs. There were no chicks. Not even an adolescent. Nests are always full, always. But here was an empty one with no promise of new terrifying sky-birds. I inhaled the unexpected victory I had just been handed and something else besides the freezing winter air filled my lungs. I turned around to see a group of hens fly by.

I waited to see where they landed and then left the window ledge.
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Publication Date: 05-01-2010

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