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I dont like the feeling when a puff of air glides across my face as a pigeon flys past it.

The one time I saw a pigeon in a tree was in the south of France, other than that I usually find them on the streets of San Francisco pecking at unrecognizable muck on the asphaIt. Although we see them everywhere we dont know much about them... I wonder what they do at night. I imagine them finding a hole or a crack in the wall, sleeping on the streets with the other creatures of the night. I have always been envious of birds... dreaming that I could fly into the trees... but I would never want to be a pigeon.