I went into remote country looking for something uncommon. I had been seeing the usual birds near my neighborhood. Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Red and White-breasted Nuthatches, Cardinals, Cooper’s and Red-tailed Hawks. Good to see, but not uncommon. So I figured I’d get away from homes and malls. I wanted to walk into some real woods, maybe find a river. It’s fun to start with a goal and I had two. One realistic, one not. A Belted Kingfisher and a Bald Eagle.
I found an expanse of old woods, and there was a river, too. But no Kingfishers. Eagles? Forget it. Even birds I called “usual” near home, nuthatches and woodpeckers, were nowhere to be seen. Still, it was enjoyable to get into the wild. The only bit of civilization was a visitor’s center where you could pick up a map and get warm. They had a feeder out back.
In the feeder were three big, gray pigeons gobbling seeds. The feeder was too small for them, and wobbled. These birds are “Rock Doves” but everyone calls them pigeons. City birds. Birds of train platforms, fire escapes, rooftops and downtown parks where people throw crumbs. Pigeons can be a nuisance. They clutter Saint Mark’s in Venice and sit on Nelson’s head in London.
How did these city birds find a feeder way out in the sticks? I remembered having a similar question about the American White Pelicans I saw on Yellowstone Lake in Wyoming. Sure, the lake was big, but c’mon, it’s in land-locked Wyoming. How did the first pelicans find it? And how did three pigeons know it would pay to leave the big city for a remote spot in the woods? If anyone has an answer, please tell. In any case, I left thinking that I never did see something uncommon. Then it hit: What could be more uncommon than those common pigeons in that remote forest?
