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Two tired eyes.
This afternoon, I went to an eye doctor for a check-up. Part of that involved dilating my pupils, and looking at a pigeon with my pupils blown wide was a dizzying experience. The white feathers were stupefyingly reflective, like fresh snow on a sunny day, except warm and alive.
I walked back through Riverside Park, thinking that natural sunlight and long distances would help - which they did - and stopped at one point to watch a few more pigeons. The neck feathers' iridescence was magnified beyond what I'd ever thought possible, a bright blue-green that I've never seen on an animal before. Not like scales, because like with the first pigeon I stopped to watch, the iridescent feathers moved with the bird. Warm. Alive. The only thing I could think of was the ocean, because I'd never seen anything else like it.
It's not necessarily an experience I want to repeat in the near future, and at some point, I wouldn't mind doing it again. I'll know to bring birdseed.
I walked back through Riverside Park, thinking that natural sunlight and long distances would help - which they did - and stopped at one point to watch a few more pigeons. The neck feathers' iridescence was magnified beyond what I'd ever thought possible, a bright blue-green that I've never seen on an animal before. Not like scales, because like with the first pigeon I stopped to watch, the iridescent feathers moved with the bird. Warm. Alive. The only thing I could think of was the ocean, because I'd never seen anything else like it.
It's not necessarily an experience I want to repeat in the near future, and at some point, I wouldn't mind doing it again. I'll know to bring birdseed.
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