Last night when I popped out into the back garden, I accidentally scared a pigeon. I hadn’t seen it in the undergrowth, although I dare say if I had I would still have needed to go outside.
In any case, the poor thing seemed out of its wits. After I went back inside, I watched it scurrying about at the end of the garden
before braving it down to the middle again.
By now, it was getting quite dark. I wondered if it was after water or waiting for something else. It was clearly moulting, with the neck and head particularly affected. Perhaps it simply didn’t have the energy to fly out of the garden.
Nonetheless, I was still surprised this lunch time to see it sitting on the raised bed wall. I have no idea if it sojourned on the pot I had last seen it on yesterday at dusk but today it didn’t even scurry off until it was obvious I was going down the garden.
I haven’t seen it since it ran to the back of my neighbour’s garden but I hope it is okay. It must a truly exhausting business losing one’s feathers and growing a new set of them.