Pigeons are a reoccurring theme in my life this week, so I’m exploring that for a moment. Is there  a deeper meaning to be discerned on Valentine’s Day regarding pigeons…

In my bag of imagery pigeons are letter carriers. Also they remind me of war, though I was never in a war nor do I know anyone who kept messenger pigeons in any war. Idk.

Pigeon songs sound like gurgling water. More precisely, it sounds like people struggling underneath bath water to get air.

Not very pleasant so far, no.

What associations does the universe want me to take away here. It being Valentines Day today and everyone rushing around getting  pigeon love cards with premade words only waiting for a signature. No thought. No heart. I haven’t received a card in years. (should I be admitting this?)

 I think too, that people, even me sometimes –  mistake pigeons for doves, seemingly lovely creatures bred for peace rallies and weddings –  so that at a minimum pigeons illicit confusion. A conundrum for sure (if you are a pigeon): universally hated for shitting on car windshields especially by the citizens of Florence but simultaneously adored by foreigners who take pictures of themselves in stupid poses with pigeons on their heads in said city.


Which reminds me that I never want to be part of the tourist hordes but also, why I have hardly any pictures of us as a family traveling to famous places. Like ‘Pigeon Tower’ in Sarajevo. I am a Pigeon Snob.

In the end, I suspect it might just be subliminal pigeon voodoo I am feeling today. The next door neighbor keeps them, as well as koi fish and on occasion, the cooing couple (the pigeons not the neighbors) come and sit on The Queens window sill. She fawns and gets misty eyed, telling me that maybe there is a message for her. I think it reminds her somehow of an old flame and if that warms her heart on this day assigned to love and chocolates, so be it.

Look at this guy. Cute as a dove. Mr. War Pigeon