





He was strutting his stuff.
Taking a walk with attitude.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the phrase “strutting his stuff” was inspired by a Rock Pigeon.
Watch one for more than ten seconds.
You’ll see what I mean.
Head bobbing.
Purposeful steps.
Turns so smooth they belong on a ballroom dance floor.
It’s as if he’s got a soundtrack playing in his head that only pigeons can hear.
“Stayin’ Alive.”
There he was.
All alone on the Narrow River mudflat at Sedge Island.
No flock.
No lookout.
No cover.
Just one pigeon taking an early morning stroll as if he owned the place.
Apparently, “Safety in numbers” wasn’t on today’s agenda.
The tide had left behind a buffet.
Tiny seeds.
Marine invertebrates.
Bits of vegetation.
Breakfast was served.
And with the sun painting everything in warm gold, it was just him…
…and his shadow.
I couldn’t help but admire his confidence.
Then reality interrupted.
Every time I walk beneath Sprague Bridge, a flock of Rock Pigeons explodes from the steel girders overhead.
Whoosh.
Every.
Single.
Time.
That bridge isn’t just a bridge.
It’s home.
A longtime pigeon rookery.
And there’s a reason hundreds of pigeons prefer roommates.
Around the Narrow River, being a pigeon isn’t just a lifestyle.
It’s a full-contact sport.
To a Peregrine Falcon, a pigeon is breakfast with wings.
A Cooper’s Hawk can weave through trees like a fighter jet, snatching one before it even knows it’s in danger.
A Merlin may be smaller, but it hunts with astonishing speed.
A Red-tailed Hawk won’t pass up an easy meal.
A Great Horned Owl owns the night shift.
Even a Bald Eagle, despite preferring fish, will gladly take a pigeon when opportunity knocks.
And if you’re a young pigeon…
Raccoons.
Opossums.
Foxes.
The menu only gets longer.
Suddenly, that swagger made a little more sense.
Maybe it wasn’t confidence.
Maybe it was courage.
Or perhaps pigeons simply refuse to spend their lives worrying about what might happen.
Instead…
They walk.
They forage.
They admire another sunrise.
They live.
So I kept photographing my newest subject.
A bird most people never notice.
A bird many dismiss.
A bird whose feathers flash emerald, violet, bronze, and silver when the morning light catches them just right.
A magnificent specimen.
And if he’s not careful…
Delicious.
Naturally.
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