I was waiting for my friend Marieke at the Oostende train station this morning.  Looking at people.  And watching pigeons scurry by my feet.  I bet they were happy to be out of the cold.

One visitor seemed to be moving funny so I looked closer.  At first glance, she was standing on one foot.  I was impressed with her athleticism.  Then she touched her other foot down, but only briefly … and the landing was strange.  If you thought of her foot as a hand, it was resting on the knuckles rather than the palm.

Then my new friend moved away from me, along the floor.  The second foot made a swimming motion, and the balance was way off. 

The bird is injured

She wasn’t to be denied, however, and roamed around, pecking for bits of food.  “This woman is my new hero,” I thought.

I stared in admiration as Miss Pigeon crossed the room on the floor.  Braver than most.  The humans didn’t notice the journey, except for one woman who came close.

I knew I was about to get up, saunter over to the bird and take a picture.  Plus talk to the woman.

All that disappeared when the pigeon took off and landed on a high windowsill.  And the woman walked away.

You see the result of my remaining photo op.  “It’s just a bird,” you may say.  No, it’s far more.

Waydago, my feathered companion