They literally always have blank faces
A spiritual comment and prayer to start the day with Hope Lonergan.
A spiritual comment and prayer to start the day with Hope Lonergan
Good morning.
A pigeon recently built a nest on top of our garden gazebo. I donβt say this to discriminate against any pigeons out there but their nest building skills are mid. Rubbish. Much to be desired. Still β the nest seemed to be functional; it did the trick.
As the days went on, we watched this lanky, scruffy nestling grow and develop and learn to navigate the world. When it came time to learn flying (textbook pigeon activity) it stood on one of the planks on the gazebo while its Mum β and Iβm not sure if this is the usual routine β used her beak to grab it by the beak and jerk its head back and forth, almost like a reprimand for sub-optimal flying. (You should check your own nest-building abilities, luv.) Sheβd then stand back, observe, and βencourageβ the nestling to give it another go.
I watched all of this from a bedroom window, absolutely captivated, really rooting for the baby pigeon. Eventually the nestling flew β and the Mum stood still, blank-faced, as if the crushing realisation that this stage in her life was over had finally dawned on her.
Or not.
Because sheβs a pigeon.
And pigeons literally always have blank faces.
Either way, because I had recently been discharged from hospital after a serious illness, this all felt very meaningful. And like some of the most poignant moments in life, it was drained of any meaning almost instantly.
So, today I pray for pigeons, and quiet moments of contemplation and palpable meaning. We all have value and a place in this world, both animals and humans - even if theyβre reduced to nothing soon after theyβve passed. Because: well, pigeons.
Amen.