Bird Brain, the racing pigeon, came to dinner a few evenings ago escorted by a feral pigeon who was making his amorous intentions clear as he flew in loops around her while she (her gender now obvious) flew in a straight line towards the boat.  It was clear that she had come for dinner and he for some other delight.  To be fair, Bird Brain looked as though she had been tailed, and had not invited the feral fella.  Nonetheless, two birds on board was too much for the skipper who sent the pair of them packing.  Bird Brain made her usual circuit before heading straight for the shore, while her aspiring companion repeatedly flew towards, over and under her trying in vain to get some kind of response.  Bird Brain may have lost her bearings, but she knew her station in life, and made it quite clear that she was not impressed to have missed dinner because of her companion’s behaviour.

 

The following morning, Bird Brain came for breakfast unaccompanied.  She has remained single ever since.  Although Bird Brain had quickly learned that she has to roost ashore, she doesn’t seem to be doing too well at finding food.  Each day she arrives ravenous.  Dry muesli (with the fruit removed please) or cooked rice are her preferred foods, with bread a poor substitute.  These aristocratic tastes will have to change when I leave, or she will go hungry.  She may yet be forced to endure the rougher end of pigeon society after all as she learns to forage for food.  But who knows what she does ashore already?  She no longer dallies on the boat engaging in polite “conversation” after meals, but instead returns promptly to shore with a haughty look as if to say, “if you don’t appreciate me, I’ll find someone who does”.  Strange how similar pigeon and human social behaviours are.

 

On Friday I went to Lagoonies, about 1 3/4 miles away at the other end of Simpson Bay Lagoon, for their customary Friday fish and chips dinner, washed down with a bottle of Happy Hour beer.  I didn’t stay for the music of Koolberry Jam as the lengthening evenings now make it practical to return after dinner with the last of the waning daylight.  However, as I cast off from the dock onto a glassy lagoon, I realised that the sky ahead was black with rain clouds.  The dinghy played its part as we sped over the smooth water racing the storm.  Strangely, but fortunately, there was no wind or waves to slow us and we arrived back at the boat just as the rain commenced.  Anguilla, whose lights normally shine brightly across the channel, had disappeared into the blackness: And Bird Brain was sitting on the poop deck wondering why HER dinner had been delayed!