This somewhat alarming example of the taxidermist’s ‘art’ was on display at the flea market in Hebden Bridge this afternoon. So many questions are begged I am not sure I know where to start. The rather evil-looking rodent descending from top left raises its own issues, too.
Evidence of new tactics in the ongoing pigeon-duck conflict. “Hah. I knew this camouflage would eventually come in useful. Now I can spy on the ducks without fear of detection.”
“Er… Bob? The feet?”
“Oh bugger.”
One of those pictures where I didn’t really notice the details until it was ‘developed’ (that is, uploaded to the laptop). I thought the pigeon was actually a traffic camera until I looked more closely.
I can see no explanation for the burst of feathers on the neck of this pigeon than it has recently had an extremely close encounter with some kind of ballistic missile — a piece of shot, an air rifle pellet — not unlike (in pigeon terms) one of those stories where a WW1 trenches veteran got his cigarette case taken neatly out but he survived. Or Steve Buscemi’s character in Fargo (if you’ve seen it, you know). I apologise to the paid-up members of the Society Avoiding Cruelty to Pigeons on behalf of the perpetrator, but I didn’t do it, honestly, I’m just documenting.
Exactly what this biker and this pigeon were finding to talk about this afternoon by the Hebden old bridge, I have no idea — but there is clearly some communication here.
Slightly unsatisfactory because the head of the one in front is a little out of focus — probably it was moving for a peck when I pressed the shutter. Otherwise I like this photo — the graffiti in the background sets them off quite well I think. And I like the way the one in the rear is clearly fluffing up its ruff and giving me the big ‘piss off’ message.
The pigeon/duck conflict is one of the great unseen wars. Where the river comes through the town, where waterfowl meets urban scavenger, the two species battle for the prime pickings from the humans. The pigeons sent an emissary to demand more territory, but the ducks, insistent that they were there first, just ain’t talking.
Phew! What a Scorcher, blah blah… actually it was rather cooler today than it has been. I bet this pigeon frequently takes a dip in the fountain, either way. It was certainly quite civilised about it, going about it like some old geezer who still insists on swimming in the Serpentine every morning.
Same train in so I pass through the same parts of Manchester at the same time. Off I go to work one way, this guy goes a second way, the bird goes a third. I wonder if pigeons sometimes wake up in the morning with a headache, and just don’t feel very much into the day, but set off anyway through a sense of obligation.
Being 42 