Please Don't Feed the Animal In Me
Some weekends I feel closer to my food and this is one of them. That’s partly because yesterday we made our annual pilgrimage to Little Quail Farm in Valley Center to pick our own ripe persimmons. Partly it’s because I finally made it to a farmer’s market and felt a little pious buying direct from growers versus grocers. But mostly it’s because of pigeons. Yesterday morning I drove down to Coronado to babysit canisters, cups and a couple of jackets while everyone in our half marathon training program ran around town at daybreak. (I even saw AKA Alice gearing up for a Silver Strand ride in a chance encounter.) Once everyone took off, I sat on a concrete bench with a book and about 10 minutes later noticed a couple of pigeons walking toward me. Soon more pigeons were on the move and before I knew it they were arriving en masse. Feeling like a hapless victim in the early 1970s movie “ Willard ,” I stood up to leave, which is all the action it took for them to fly away. But they kept comi...