Accompany the company.

Riverside Park pigeons aren't Washington Square Park pigeons, but a pigeon's a pigeon no matter the park. And a pigeon that knows people is a very congenial pigeon indeed.

I was out on a bike ride earlier today when I saw a woman feeding some birds, pigeons and sparrows, which were comfortable enough with her presence to stand in close. There were a few perched on the fence around a big lawn, and I looked at them up there, I thought about the little container of birdseed I had with me, and I put some seed in my hand and held it up against the fence right by where they perched.

They were curious.

They were interested.

They were so soft and warm, with their little pink feet and impeccable sense of balance, at first just leaning over to peck at the food and then hopping onto my hand. They're hungrier than Washington Square pigeons, with the first one on my hand fighting the rest to keep its full access to the food instead of moving aside to make more room. They're also comfortable with people, because when I poured some seed on the ground by my feet, they just walked past my shoes to get to it.

I bent down and held my hand out just above the ground, and some ate from my hand instead of the ground. I lifted it up, still with food on it, just above where they could reach. They looked around, considering - and then one flew up to my hand to eat the food there.

It was a simple problem, and still, I was impressed at the effort the pigeon took to commit to what it needed to do to solve it. Because as friendly as they were, they weren't anyone's pets or companions. They were cautious, willing to get close, and ready to leave at any moment no matter how hungry they were or how much food was left.

They still perched on my hand as carefully as they could when I moved it away from the fence, pecking gently to get the last bits of seed from between my fingers. Just one. But oh, it was a good one.