25 Pigeons And A Plane

It is 3° Celsius as I walk home, on a day in early February, yet, the birds sing Spring songs to awaken the first buds. The holly berries, give shelter to the first ladybird. I’ll only discover it, later, in the photo I take.

A courageous crow invites me for a silent chat by the wayside. I stop for the encounter and as I move on, I have made a new friend.

It smells like incense as I walk by the funeral home with the opaque window in the semi-basement. Each time I do, my mind comes up with pictures.

Hazel catkins dance around their tree in garlands, while snowdrops drip white onto the early Spring. The Winter aconites stay closed, today. They rest beneath the cloud cover, waiting to shine with the sun.

A lady with two dogs crosses the street a couple of metres before me. As I walk past, one of the dogs stays by my side, smiling, until he is called back. Another new friend, though our paths part for now.

I hear rumbling in the parked truck I am passing by and turn around. A man is loading a coffin into the vehicle. It seems heavy. I look again and see several empty caskets are already stacked up. I never even knew there was a carpenter in this area.

Above, under the urban sky, I see 25 pigeons and a plane fly by.