Thursday, 15 May 2008

back to the rock doves

This morning I'm feeling a tad exposed. Just washed my windows, for one thing. One of my sisters is dropping in tonight, for another (but that's a small one). I'm starting to dig into my Stan Still poems and songs--that must be the main thing.

Not quite. What exposes me most is the removal of anti-rock dove netting out on my balcony. Right now--prime mid-morning over the commerce of the alley, for the rock doves--I'm here at the keyboard, when I should be out there with my prod and my traps in case "Sylvia" or "Ben" happen by.

(I should explain: I'm the one who removed the netting so I can sit out there and my sister can.)

Every five minutes or so I go out and rattle a bucket around or knock over a broom. It's just one person, but I'm doing my bit.


Brenda Schmidt said...

Those poor pigeons probably have nightmares about you! You and that bucket and broom. Poor things.

Hi to Stan.

Gerald Hill said...

Hey, they don't HAVE nightmares, they ARE nightmares.