The Pigeon Who Had Opinions

October ninth.

There was a pigeon on the break room windowsill for most of our lunch break today. Not flying past, not briefly pausing, sitting. Settled. Looking in at us with the specific expression of someone who has arrived early for a meeting and is not impressed by what they're seeing.

Simone started narrating about three minutes in. Full nature documentary voice. She gave him a name and a backstory involving a disputed territory dispute two buildings over and some complicated feelings about the fall migration. I made it through maybe thirty seconds before I had to put my sandwich down because I was going to inhale it. That is my face when the pigeon made direct eye contact for the second time. I want the record to reflect that he blinked first.

I grabbed the camera to get a shot of him before he inevitably flew off. He did not fly off. He stayed for the entirety of my remaining break, apparently committed to his point.

The pigeon. Unbothered. Judging us.

There he is. Unbothered. Fully at ease. We were the ones who felt observed. Simone said, right before we had to go back in, 'He's going to be here tomorrow and we're going to feel bad that we don't know more about him.' I think she's right. I think we failed to make a good first impression on a bird and I am going to think about it more than is reasonable.

We managed to get one timer shot before the end of break.

Both of us, fully invested in a pigeon.

I look like I'm mid-laugh, which is accurate. It was a good Tuesday. It was an unexpectedly good Tuesday, which is the best kind.