The Killing Fields

My pops used to raise pigeons on our roof when I was a kid, kinda contributing to my casual fascination with the birds.
(He didnt raise them for food or racing. He just liked doing it.)

So, in my idle times, i will stand stock still and watch them soar, swoop and circle, marvelling at their flying skills.

Got a little soft spot for the rock doves, except that I'm convinced the anti-social bastards use humans for shitting practice.

So, as I walked through the United Nations square by City Hall, I saw a seagull grab a young squab by the tail, the bird fluttering frantically to escape the grip of the larger bird.
Enraged I ran over and swiped at the gull to let it go, which with a squawk it did.

No wonder I keep seeing pigeons around the city with missing tail-feathers.

Theyre ravenous little buggers too. Someone threw out some grain and a crapload of feathers descended en-masse to devour them.

Easily 60 birds in a living, flapping, roiling mass of wings, feathers and beaks, the crowd extending to the street.

The light changed, and the ball extended powerful flying muscles and ascended.

*vroom* *boom* *Crump* *whump*

For some, not fast enough as a Acura rice-burner and delivery van took them out.

One was literally flattened to the roadway, but still alive with his head still up.

One second later, his head was also one with the roadway.

Later, I saw a seagull stripping another pigeon in the United Nations fountain, everything but the keelbone and wings, leaving behind macabre-ly intact angel wings.

You see them all over the square.

Ironic that the square dedicated to the founding of the United Nations is such a killing field.