It is snowing today, a good month ahead of schedule. While I'm terrified of its implications, I really am rather enjoying how lovely it is outside. This year has been anything but predictable, and as someone who embraces change, I am fond of the unexpected surprises that Mother Nature has been supplying. It keeps everyone on their toes. Reminds us of how meaningless we really are, and how we don't actually have control of much of anything.
The building next door to mine has had a large flock of pigeons living in it. The underside of the roof had a bunch of old broken boards which left a hole in the attic for these pigeons to make a lovely home out of. All day I could see them flying in and out of it, cooing and going about their business. I often wondered about the people that live right under that attic, and how they could possibly tolerate the noise? I imagined what it would be like to sleep there, hearing the pitter patter of little reddish orange feet scurrying about overhead. Not too pleasant, I would think.
A couple of days ago the owners of the building spent the day sawing and hammering new boards into place to cover the hole and repair all the damage the pigeons had done. It was a lovely, sunny day, so as I watched them working I thought to myself that a project like that wouldn't be bad at all when you could do it in such lovely weather. Up on the ladder seeing eye to eye with the trees, and feeling the sun on their skin the way the tree's branches do. It's so rare to experience such things from a different point of view. While the task I'm sure wasn't entirely enjoyable, they seemed to be having an OK time.
Ever since they fixed the hole, the pigeons have not gone away. I keep peering out the window at them, looking at them as they wander around, aimlessly, on top of the roof. They seem intent on sticking around, even though their home is now gone. They don't even fly away and come back anymore, they just pace back and forth up there, seemingly completely lost as to what else they could possibly do. And today the sun is gone. It has been replaced with several inches of cold, heavy, wet snow. The pigeons have not even attempted to seek shelter elsewhere. Instead they are huddled together on the chimney, keeping each other warm. I wonder if they will ever move on?
Those pigeons are not unlike many of us. We get so accustomed to things as they are, and when our lives are changed in some way, we simply cannot let go. We liked things that way. We were so comfortable. Our lives were good. We loved that place. We loved that person. Without it, without them, what are we? Where could we go? There isn't anything better than this was. Or is there? We will never know until we move on. Maybe if the pigeons find a way to move on, the rest of us can, too. I'll let you know how they do. Stay tuned...