Dear reader,
Pigeons are the oldest domesticated birds in the world, tracing their origins back to the Middle East 5,000 to 10,000 years ago. Descended from the Wild Rock Dove, they were originally farmed for meat and bred as messenger carriers before transitioning into urban environments where they adapted to modern city life.
Because Wild rock Doves naturally roost on cliffs and possess an incredible ability to navigate and return home over long distances, humans quickly began selectively breeding them for communication.
During WW1 and WW11 hundreds of thousands of homing pigeons were utilized by militarizes on both sides. Because radios could be easily intercepted or jammed these 'war pigeons' were vital for delivering critical intelligence from the front lines.
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I see, with trepidation, that it is going to be 32 degrees or more again next week. Gosh I long for summers of yesteryear. A weak sun and a gentle breeze, proper picnic weather, and a quiet walk through the woods.
So it will be back to drawn curtains and fans, and not venturing out. What have us humans done to the planet? We have destroyed it or are doing so.
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From Dorothy Wordsworth July 5th 1802 in Westmorland
'A very sweet morning. William stayed some time in the orchard....It came on a heavy rain, and we could not go to Dove Nest as we had intended...The roses in the garden are fretted and battered and quite spoiled, the honey suckle, though in its gory, is sadly teazed. The peas are beaten down. The scarlet beans want sticking. The garden is overrrun with weeds.
From Gerard Manley Hopkins July 9th 1871 in Lancashire
'After much rain, some thunder, and no summer as yet, the river swollen and golden...there was this day a thunder storm on a greater scale - huge rocky clouds lit with a lived light, hail and rain that flooded the garden, and thunder ringing and echoing round like brass.'
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Stations
are full of people,
people angry, people joyful
people sad, people anxious,
people disappointed,
people running,
people excited,
old people,
young people,
middle aged people
the odd dog
Stations are full
of smoke
the smell of frying onions
gauloise cigarettes
pigeons
lost luggage
people hurrying to and fro
the crashing of doors
noise and emotion
Stations
are the beginning
or the end
the alpha
the omega
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With very best wishes, Patricia
