It’s one of those days out that’s so agonizingly glorious it hurts. The air is exactly room temperature, so it feels as if the outdoors is indoors and just has really good skylights. It’s magnificent.
I was taking the trash out when my attention was caught by a flock of pigeons, circling. They were circling the same space–not a holding pattern sort of circle, but a dramatic swooping flight, high on one end, low on the other, over and over, across this courtyard of the apartments next door, making a circle maybe a hundred feet in diameter, at least fifty or sixty pigeons in a flock, just…circling. For no apparent reason. Occasionally a little wedge of birds would get overexcited, calve off, and go at a tangent for a few dozen yards, then realize they’d broken formation and swoop back.
I watched them do this twenty or so times before I went back inside, and they showed no sign of stopping.
Pigeons are weird.
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