Two scruffy pigeons on a rusty parapet.
Pink and green winged seeds are clearly visible on a maple where they hang like bunches of keys; and we are not yet half way through May.
In a window a grey-haired woman looks out on the world. In her hand a mug from which she takes a sip.
4 comments:
They may be scruffy, but let's not overlook the mauve iridescence on their neck feathers, which is very fine.
I don't think these Pigeons are scruffy. Maybe just down on their luck, or
resting on an old rusty roof.
I like the purple on their necks as well.
Urban pigeons which live in the streets beside the feet of people eating and drinking at restaurant tables, close to tyres and exhausts, and on the ledges of grimy buildings, are, I always think, scuffy by nature. It doesn't stop me liking them for their quirky behaviour and greedy way of walking, heads poking to left and right, in search of scraps. You are right about the colours of their neck feathers. They have always seemed to me to resonate with the colours produced in gutters where oil and rainwater mix.
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