User:Charles Lynx

Pigeon Tales: A tale of two birds whom found a common symbol and so, a common perspective

The day is very bright. A night of cloud moves west and leaves a visible front arcing north to south. That shoreline in the sky recedes by the morning sun. An arm reaching up through the air pierces the blue sky - below.

The Statue of Liberty draws us downward. In a mythical motion for the defence of freedom, she stops as is necessary for the cause. Her island now receives a boat containing the odd tourist; pictures and tours follow.

Two birds perch on the monument's lowered shoulder. There, the view of the harbour encapsulates the new perspective they had come to gain in their moment of togetherness. Pigeons sense no fear from that breathless height, and hence they will leave no trace on the path to inspiration.

The brown pigeon sits on his feet. Motion is the thesis of life, and that bird must treat the world with stillness. With the many exchanges, accumulations, and alternately, spaces develop. Rules of momentum need only apply. Thus Brown sees the pigeon as a direct creature: it moves forward in a straight line. Many pigeons create many exchanges in momentum; the differences produce definition. A picture of values covers a world of contrast. The world supplies all sustenance.

A blue pigeon, on the other hand, lives in a world of appearances. Blue expects to adjust uniquely to each situation. Memory does not compare to quick learning. Nature is unpredictable. A pigeon is best to be suspicious, but Blue is spirited and coos often and follows with a display.

The Statue of Liberty warms the inners of its tin giant by the curious and compensating thoughts of two birds. That mannequin is a mast for the American constitution. With sails full of liberty, a woman of Ellis Island progresses straight from the past into the future. She should not step into the query of her creation. It is a past artist and a past historian that conceived her New York icon. A sculpture from France resides on a foreign landscape. It is a people's identity and only in passing. It is a destination from worldwide: “I saw the Statue of Liberty!”  Only a photo-op can solve the intrigue. That Lady shall step no further.

The sun climbs to the height of the day. The air gets hot and the copper skin pops in response. That heavy ocean air subdues the pigeons, one squatting and the other looking around. One lone breeze spirals upward about the still woman, passing the roosting aviators. Those animals are almost vacuumed off their rests, but turn decisively allowing for direction of flow and defence of their seats. It is just one front of invisible encounter; their day shall see no other. The birds roast comfortably atop a lady-in-waiting.

The brown pigeon settles once again. His body is secure, so he's able to continue a life there. Food, the daily ritual, is for him as all pigeons. That brown pigeon thus looks inward at an initial image of gathering sustenance. Then his inward eye can take a glance beyond to the meaning of ‘pigeon’.

The blue pigeon fixes to bop about, once again, accumulating this scenic day. With the morning feeding being over, only the outward symbols are left. He compares the green grass with the sidewalks of the island.

Brown perceives the agility in his physical awareness.

Blue compares the comfort with the competition. He lives both.

When morning arrived, nature produces a hungry brown pigeon. The search for seed in the forgotten weed grass on Ellis Island is partly satisfied. A pigeon knows that downtown seed is plentiful. Central Park is the next place to fly. And yet, with yesterday's fill weighing on today's, the warm weather encourages him to stay.

Blue pigeon flirts vacant fields and catches sight of Brown's perch on top of the standing woman.

The day ends early. Now they watch and wait. The boats pass by. The tourists clamour up the monument. And when a spook arrived, they would fly: to the island, to the shore, to the city.

Old buildings decorated for the interest of a passing public provide a nesting site for the cosmopolitan bird. Otherwise, it need only follow the wind. There, a social order may grow. That is, a social order of pigeons.

The noon sun brings a horde. The individual could never think for long even if his world had been among the human world. A passing pedestrian keeps him turning in the air. A new building gives no new rest spot. Always agitated and always looking, a pigeon must try to get the anger up and think: “Enough!” Finally, morning turns to night, and he needs a place to rest, an old building.

As a bird circles in the city, a person goes about a daily life. Stores nourish his interests with custom and exchange as a guide. Municipal organizations often spook that person, but the day's traffic and pedestrian congestion always do. Weather could blow his body, or a high price sends him flying. The head takes on weighty concepts so that flocking is common occurrence.

If expectations put mass flight into the background, the perspectives would change to a work-a-day routine. The person is an imitator of inputs' conception. The artist paints over the sporting attitude. Uniqueness for that citizen assures consumptive gain. Ever greater expectations can only alter diversity.

Expectations come from above. Societal concerns make pawns of people. For beginners, giving a helping hand is universal. Thus school sets the new apart from the old. The result is a consumptive gain. Economic importance includes higher education.

Brown pigeon sees past the daily routine and thinks of his capability in averting danger and hustling for seed. Blue compares places and figures he must live as if at both. In his mind, Blue must act as Brown thinks. Both birds interpret differently, and both birds gain different results, but outwardly, they must act alike. Each bird must respond to an environment. They are committed to action.

Not all can have the brighter future offered by education. Expectations may be lower too. That deferral results in the local nature of consumptive gain. Super-organizations do not reach the local, so those pockets miss the outlet of convinced expectations. Someday, niches will rise to defend themselves.

The two pigeons realize that they have more in common than a shoulder to perch on: action a-waits. Blue bobs and coos in the direction of Central Park. Brown takes flight. A moment later, after checking the direction of Brown, Blue follows. Those birds disappear into the infinity of the panorama - a couple of pockets in the wind.