A lone, motionless pigeon perched by my window

If you may allow a quote from the Holy Bible.

Proverbs, Chapter 24 : 26: “A honest answer, is like a kiss on the lips.”

Big cities are home to every imaginable detail. More than rural communities. If we skip town for a few days and relax in remote countrysides, we tend to get bored. Not much happening. Some of us cannot handle inaction. But rural areas have more intimacy, peace, and, as the Scripture above suggested, honesty.

In tiny villages, everyone knows everyone. You cannot cheat on your husband, or wife without whispers spreading and the entire circle of ten houses knowing. Most shambaland hamlets have one long meandering street. Or one well known shop and a pub and a restaurant. People migrate to this mini heaven. Chatting about the same things, and life is simple. Simplicity is beautiful.

Simplicity and tranquillity may cure stress.

And stress is the underwear and socks of city life.

You know you are going to get a job. You know you are going to run a business. You know your children might end up in university , jail or prostitution, so you work hard. Cities are urban jungles, and what the Jamaican musician Bob Marley called a Rat Race: “In the abundance of water, the fool is thirsty” (1976 Rastaman Vibration album)

In all cities, humans and machines rush , strive to live and survive. In cities are also the famous birds, singing, crooning beautiful – pigeons. Crows and pigeons are present everywhere across the planet. Crows tend to be solitary while pigeons – though always in pairs – hustle and tussle in groups (like lions as opposed to leopards who are loners), mostly under the cover of bridges, giant trees, houses, rail and bus stations.

So it was with trepidation and curiosity I discovered a pigeon perched on the panel of my bedroom window. One lonely, solo, pigeon.

Normally on seeing and feeling an approaching human (let alone a bird of prey like an eagle or hawk), any bird quickly flies away.

Hey.

I was really surprised that the pigeon did not flutter its wings nor show any indication of departure. Note. It wasn’t clear whether the grey-black-white feathered visitor was male or female. Normally in the bird and animal kingdom, males are larger, or more colourful. The eyes were a mix of hazel, brown and yellow; the beak white- yellow. The bird was seated and its feathered neck pushed down towards the protruding chest as though it was cold, but it is spring in London and the sun was glowing. Dark, grey legs had no bruise. I was puzzled. Why would it hang here, alone, and not move when approached?

I calmly said hello in several languages...watching the slow blinking eyes. Birds have to turn their heads sideways to see properly unlike us who use the front.

The visitor studied me, and of course I was not going to chase, kill it or anything like that. We know city pigeons cannot be eaten. Chiefly, because it is against the law, and secondly they are not safe. Their diet is filthy and contains dangerous toxins.

First time I saw pigeons for sale at a “bush market” (here in London wild meat is rare these days especially because of Covid-19 and the terrifying connection with bats!), I was happy and perplexed. The sellers made it very clear that the birds were from a proper wild sanctuary far away from any city. Meaning, safe to consume. Had to purchase a bunch as one would not be enough. Reminded me when, as children , we used catapults (manati in Swahili) to hunt birds in rural green East Africa.

Now.

I carried on doing my music practise and noticed the European piano did not excite the bird. But as soon as I played marimba – ilimba (thumb piano) it raised its neck, spread its wings and walked around, majestically, then promptly, released a bunch of droppings. At first I did not mind. But an hour later upon checking, found the entire window ledge filled with faeces.

A neighbour later told me birds tend to defecate more frequently when excited or in distress. Subsequently, with my constant music playing, if we let this bird stay here the whole place would become a latrine!

As I write this I am not sure why that bird came to perch on my window, nor why it was so interested in what Zimbabweans call imbira, and kalimba in certain parts of West Africa. Then thumb piano seems to thrill children, animals and birds in a peculiar way. And maybe there is a lot more we need to discover regarding millions of our wild partners which fly and rove dear Planet Earth.