And why can’t I feed the pigeons?

Oh this gloomy, wet weather brings me down.  It hasn’t helped that I’m reading this melancholic memoir AND that I watched Werner Herzog’s outstanding documentary on the death penalty in the U.S.  Both the book and the film keep running through my head as I go about my daily rountine.  There seems to be a voice-over in my brain today that says such things as, “Now I’m alive but one day I will be dead.  I pick up a pencil.  What does it mean?  One day I will cease to exist and other living things will cease to exist.  Mankind is inhumane and cruel.    Each day I am letting go of more and more and, in fact, I am saying goodbye moment to moment.”

And it goes on and on like that.

To remedy my free floating anxiety, I filled the bird feeder for the song birds and put a bit of bread out for the pigeons even though everyone warns me not to feed the pigeons.  I also checked on my four little sunflower seedlings that I planted a few days ago.  They are still alive.  I shared a piece of chicken from my lunch with the cat and dog.  They were extremely happy.

And as many poets have noted, the natural world contains the panacea.  Also, my local pharmacist.

3 thoughts on “And why can’t I feed the pigeons?

  1. I like pigeons. We gift them all the elderberry berries on our tree. I love Nature … so yeah, feed the pigeons. I wrote a blog as a reply to your question xo

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