Every Picture Tells a Story
Every Picture Tells a Story. There’s not been a lot to smile at in the news this week, so I hope this picture lifts the mood a bit. Last year I bought a book in a charity shop. Titled The English Counties, it was first published in 1949. In its own right it’s an interesting book with a short chapter on each of the English counties. It’s an interesting snapshot of the country just after the second world war, although it does tend to focus on the countryside and the more picturesque towns and cities. I didn’t really buy it for the contents though, and I must admit I haven’t read it. What most intrigued me was the book plate pasted inside the front cover.
I wonder who Miss K Miller was/ And how do you save a pigeon courageously?
My imagination runs riot every time I take a look at this. Who was Miss Miller? Why did the pigeon need rescuing? What was so courageous about the rescue? I suppose I’ll never know the real story, but imagining what happened is more fun than knowing the truth.
What do you think happened?
As I was gazing out of my window I saw a view of caose caused by the high winds over the last few days. The winds had eased at last. Young Kathleen from next door came skipping round the corner on her way home from school. She stopped as she got by the children’s play area. What was she looking at? There was a small bush and she bent to pick a bundle of … it was a pigeon struggling for some reason that I couldn’t see.
I later learnt it had broken its wing and her uncle the local vet fixed it. He also got in touch with its owner who was so happy to have his homing pigeon back. The rest is history as you might say!
What an intriguing find! Pigeons are much persecuted creatures and anything which falls of shooting/trapping/poisoning them ranks as an act of kindness in my view.
I recall working in a high-rise building in south London back in the early 80s where the landlords had coated the external ledges with a band of a very sticky substance intended to deter pigeons from perching or roosting. The sight of poor pigeons which had got themselves stuck caused of much upset and protest. We were forced to watch pigeons on the ledge just outside our office window slowly dying before our eyes and then gently decomposing. I don’t think they’d get away with such cruelty now – I hope not anyway.