The Pigeon Man

You could tell that sitting was painful. He was so old, so fragile, delicate like thin glass, sleeping was probably painful. And it wasn’t a nice day. The prickly rain, and the wind throwing tantrums. And still, there he was, sitting on that bench with his bag of seed. Reaching in every few minutes and pulling out another measured handful. Scattering it for the birds.

You looked at those pigeons—that invisible, ghostly murmur—and it was almost sickening. Unclean hands rubbing, rubbing together. A colony of rats running around might leave similar footprints in your mind. Or insects. Maybe it’s that they were like insects, of one confused group mind. But he kept tossing out the seed, and the pigeons filled the cement walkway in front his bench, and spilled onto the grass all around him, and sucked it up. He didn’t smile. (No one could smile against that wind. Saint Francis would be down here, with alms for the pigeons, trying to deflate that wind with curses and thoughts of getting the hell out of there now.) He didn’t smile, but he didn’t stop.

Joggers would jog right into the cloud of shouldering birds and send them flying, but he didn’t stop. He knew they’d be back. And they were, like the wind. They’d reconvene at his bench, the swarm reconstituting itself, and wait for the seed. The birdfeeder people you might have known—it’s like they’re performing a service. Looking out for the poor unfortunates during the lean times. And they get something out of the arrangement, too. It’s a partnership. The birds make it through the winter, and the feeder-tenders get to watch the spirited little songbirds scrapping over seeds. Their homes a beacon in the wilderness. And that makes them feel good. It makes sense. You look at a nice feeder, with beautiful, compact birds enjoying it and you think, “You know, I should get one of those.”

You didn’t think about buying a bench when you watched the old man with the bag of seed. You thought, “What does he see in those birds?” He must have thought those damn birds were beautiful.