Brian Pigeon Emerges, Finally: Happy New Year!
First off, Happy New Year, and may 2014 give you all the seed you wish for.
So, finally I emerge after what seems like weeks of endless wind and rain, rain and wind. No. Wait. It is weeks. Would you believe the sun even made an appearance today? It was so bright I could have done with shades. A few of us headed down to The Meeting Place Cafe on the seafront. Really it was just to make sure it hadn’t been washed away. Thankfully, it was still there.
Here we are mopping up some bits from the pavement. Not even sure what they were, but it didn’t matter.
That’s me on the left with my arse in the air. Rather unflattering, but there you go. Desperate times:
As you can see, everyone was a bit manic too. Hardly surprising considering the length of time we’ve all been ledge-bound. Stuart to my right was beside himself.
Has to be said, there really is fuck all for a pigeon to do when the weather sucks this bad and it’s blowing a gale strong enough to blast you from here to Leeds. I’m not kidding. It happened to a pal of mine, and it wasn’t even Leeds he ended up in. It was Halifax. Stranded in Halifax over New Year. Jesus. Imagine.
Not being able to fly anywhere is a pain in the arse, but finding shelter down here is another whole issue. It’s not easy. There are loads of options in London what with all the bridges. Couple of years back I remember Waterloo Bridge became my home for a while, but Brighton? Not a cocking bridge in sight. So mainly I have been sitting with Mart in various car parks. Dull as shit but at least they’re dry. Mart invented a game the other day to pass the time called, ‘What Car am I?’
“It’s like charades, but with cars!” He said, excitedly. I should have known better.
Thankfully he gave up after two rounds realising it wasn’t going anywhere other than; “It’s big. It’s got four wheels, a roof and a windscreen…”
Even though this weather is tough, it’s not as tough as what’s going on in New York. They’ve got it bad over there. Real bad. I didn’t even know about it till I got online yesterday, but the City is well and truly freezing its massive nuts off. Proper cold, with snow. We’re talking minus thirteen. That’s five degrees off the recommended freezer temperature. Unbelievable.
I sent NYC Joey an email never thinking I’d get a reply, but I did, and it wasn’t good.
Here’s it is, word for word:
Good to hear from you. I can’t type very much though as my feet are too cold. I bound them in cotton wool on the way here, but it isn’t enough. My toe got stuck to a lamppost yesterday. I had to get a dog to lick it off. Imagine that?
I’ve never known it so cold. Minus 13? I mean really. Most pigeons have managed to survive by hanging out near subway vents and steam pipes, but that’s no way to live.
As you can imagine there isn’t much food around either. Who’s gonna eat a sandwich outside in this weather? As for the bins, just don’t go there. The little food we do find is frozen anyway. Gordon suggested we build a small microwave out of bits of old tin, but where the hell do we start with that one?
I hear you guys are having it rough too with the wind. It may be cold over here, and wing freeze is a real danger, but at least we can get up in the air if we have to! I don’t hold out much hope for our Chicago pals though. We’re talking minus 27. I mean that’s just not right. Colder than the Arctic. I sincerely hope they’ve found themselves some penguin suits!
Here’s hoping it warms up a bit soon, or a lot would be good!
So, there you go. He’s alive and well. I must ask him about Gary too. He’s probably off chipping at ice sculptures in Central Park as I type.
Be safe all you pigeons out there. In the meantime, it’s back to the ledge I go.