Avian Randiness

It's happening again. Bird sex. This time it is the huge pigeons that live in the palm tree behind our house. I have always been leery of these birds. Ever since I got in the habit of going outside at night and shining a flashlight into the tree. The first time was July 4th, 2006. I was visiting Scott before we were married and it was way too hot to drive over to see the fireworks. Who gives a rat's sphincter about fireworks when it's 112 degrees at night? So we went outside, sat with our feet in the pool, and it was really peaceful except for the flutter of the creepy birds in the palm tree. I got a flashlight and shot it up there at them and they just hung there like big obnoxious fruit. Juicy, fat feather-berries, blinking their eyes like "Do you friggin' MIND?" It was their accusatory look that got me. The nerve.

So today, when there were FOUR of them in the tree having such vicious sex that my sister and niece and I could not hear our own conversation, I took action. I got the garden hose and held it as high over my head as I could, and put my thumb on the end of it to make it spray really hard, and water-blasted their crude behavior right out of the tree. They took off for parts unknown and stray feathers floated to the ground like cigarette ashes. I felt empowered.

I sat down and enjoyed the quiet and wholesomeness.
Then they zipped back into the tree, wet but unfettered, and resumed their positions.