Birds on a Wire

The telephone lines stretched across the freeway, attached to poles flanking the city streets. The setting sun was behind me and, as I looked up, I could see a flock of pigeons hanging out and watching the cars speed by underneath them.

Since their faces were illuminated by the afternoon light, I could practically make out the expression each one had. Some had their eyes shut, seemingly reveling in the warmth and golden glow washing over them. Others’ heads were cocked as though they were wondering why some people were going so fast, so slow, who was honking and why.

Only the part of the telephone line over the freeway had birds on it; either side was completely bird-free. I wondered if birds ever became dizzy and had a fear of falling like we do, and then I remembered their wings. Duh. They probably fear other things — people who dislike them and call them “rats with wings,” or I’m sure they get a little spooked when a feline or other predator makes its presence known. But this afternoon, they were quite content and happy to be clinging to the telephone wire with their little feet.

If they were capable of articulating any thoughts they may have (but probably don’t) about us, I’m guessing they’d tell us to slow down.

To look towards the heavens more often.

To remember to build a solid nest that you can take comfort and pride in at the end of a long day.

To enjoy the evening sun with friends and family.

To spread our wings frequently.

And to never forget how to be a good homing pigeon and return to the abode when it’s time.

This evening I am thankful for the birds on a wire whose sweet presence reminded me of all these things, and whose late afternoon gathering reminded me that its the simple things in life that are often the most enjoyable.

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