I’ve solved the problem that has been plaguing man for centuries, that of stepping in, or getting directly dropped on by, pigeon poop.
Yesterday it reached 93 degrees in Southern California. It’s been very cool (for here) in the 60s for most of the Winter and early Spring. So what did folks do? Complain.
We’re never happy. It’s always too cold or too hot, depending on where you live and what time of year. I’ll admit I chose to move here because I don’t like the cold, but i really didn’t think it was too hot yesterday.
Is it only us humans that complain because we can, or because we can’t hear the animals. Are the squirrels speaking in their squirrel language. “You know, a little bit more of a warning, a little more gradual change and the shedding would have occurred. And what about my nuts, I have not moved them from the Winter storage to the Summer unit.”
Are the fish complaining in their fish language. “Um, hello, me likes a sauna just like any other bluegill but a little warning and I could have chosen to move to a cooler spot.”
Are the birds complaining in their bird language. “I just flew in from Duluth and boy are my arms tired.”
ED: Sorry, wrong blog excerpt. Correct one to follow.
Are the birds complaining in their bird language. “If the weather would have been more predictable I would have just made the quick jaunt to Duluth instead of Winnipeg. I’m soaked.”
I think not. Because they adapt. They just groove with nature. Nope, it’s only us that are unsatisfied and stinky and sweaty. We don’t think about having water and cool foods instead of McDonald’s. Maybe it’s because it makes us feel connected-when we say it’s so hot we’re guaranteed to get some one to agree.
We don’t really occupy the same spaces considering they’re flying most often. And I just don’t think their brains are big enough to figure out we are the ones responsible for airplanes, yet they instead on taking a dump on us as often as possible. Is that their version of hunting?
You know, dogs like to sniff around and find the sweet spot, cats like to bury their stuff, but not birds. They want to spread it around like they’re making a Jackson Pollack painting, getting it all colorful and splattered as wide as possible.
And then there’s pigeons. Pigeons are like little Italian guys who after a few drinks think they’re tougher than their size will produce. Pigeons will wait until the very last second to get out of your way, turning and looking at you and I presume flipping you off, you just can’t see it.
Here in Long Beach you see more seagulls than pigeons like I ran into in Chicago. But here’s a fact: seagulls are just well dressed pigeons. They’re like the guy who thinks he’s classier when he wears a tuxedo even though he still farts and doesn’t say excuse me. Seagulls don’t flip you off, they just look at you and then turn their heads away with a superior flair. But they do not have a sophisticated palate, they will eat the same trash the pigeons will, just slower.
I don’t get why birds take our human existence as such an insult. I don’t know if it’s passed down from generation to generation, I just always know to look up if you happen to catch a bird in flight in your sight. Cause they’re aiming for you.