Hollow Bones

I am not a big fan of birds. In Florida there are descendants of a swan who must live with the knowledge that their ancestor was a child molester. A 4-year-old should be able to enjoy a playdate by the lake without fearing for her Osh-Kosh behind.

I'm over it now tho. Really.

My grandmother is also afraid of birds, to such a degree that the offer of a trip to "go feed the ducks" makes her toss her wallet and keys at the madman who makes the threat. Yet this is also the woman who loves littering her yard with bird baths and houses. I guess a screened in porch offers a sense of security.

Today however, I was charmed silly by a bird. While enjoying a scoop of Ben&Jerry's Caramel Chunk on a bench outside the shop, I watched a pigeon wander into the store and up to the counter, tilt it's head up and appear to read the menu. Deciding he needed to watch his figure, he declined to order, instead taking a loop around the place, inspecting the floor for crumbs and coming back out for a drink from a dripping faucet.

If I'd had my camera with me, he would have simply sat there picking ticks out of his feathers.