Pigeon love

I got so wrapped up in the bees that I forgot to show you our portfolio of pigeon shots.  Sorry, Mom!

The first of these birdies comes from our picnic at the Louvre.  He came, hoping to join us in dining on wine and cheese only to be reminded that you cannot have alcohol on the Louvre grounds.  He puffed his chest in indignation.

Very erudite, this one.

The rest of my pigeon shots came from a small park we stopped in.  Here, surrounded by benches, was a field of pigeons.  Talk about a gold mine.  (Except that Hon is as keen on having a pigeon as a pet as I am bees.  That and customs might have had an issue if I tried to carry one of these on board.)

The Field of Dreams.

As luck would have it, it was one of our few cold days.  So not only did I have joy of watching pigeons putter about in their aimless ways, but I also was treated with my favorite pigeon pose: The puffed huddle.

Shivering pigeons.  Truth. 

I don't know if the pigeon species ever learned the shiver technique, but they certainly get the down coat thing we love here on the East Coast.  Puffy, warm and snuggleable.  Anyone who owns a down coat knows you don't just wear a down coat.  You also can (and should) snuggle into its warmth on those bitter windy occasions.

Snuggling in a way only pigeons can.

Pigeons have mastered the down coat snuggle.   So much so that they can even bathe while in down coat mode.  I'd like to see you try that.

Bath time!

On second thought, I wouldn't.  Please don't send photos.

Okay, okay.  One last pigeon photo.  This one might be my favorite.

He visited the zoo once and now he's having an identity crisis.

No, I am not taking advantage of his disability for my own enjoyment.  It had two legs like the rest of them.  This one just thought it was a flamingo. And we all know, identity crises are not disabilities, but something we all face and are therefore far territory for enjoyment.  (If you aren't sure you follow me on this, look at your high school photos and tell me you don't cringe and laugh at the same time.)

And because I do not discriminate in my fowltography, here are some other birds.

Crow or Raven, I can never remember.  Mom?

Monet's Chickens.  Yes, over 100 years old.

Some country geese topiaries.

Crazy birds, wearing pink turbans.

Now that we have our favorite never-to-be-pets out of the way, I promise something cuter.