London, Writer's Panic

Also, pigeons!

I’m home again, next to my mountains and under my part of the blue blue sky, and there are so so so many things I want to write about my trip. So many things, in fact, that I’ve got writer’s panic (it’s kind of like writer’s block, only with more amygdala) — it’s the feeling that you won’t start writing with the right moment or you’ll forget something vital or get the chronology upside down or something. So, I’m just going to start somewhere and it might not be the right place, but it will be a place, and that’s probably better than nothing.

I had a moment where my feet hurt. I was at St Paul’s Cathedral and it was lunch time. The place was full of tourists (like me!) and people who clearly have a certain bench they eat lunch on every day. I started to feel a little overwhelmed, like I might need a nap, until I noticed this pigeon.

I followed this little pigeon and some of his friends all over the grounds at St Paul’s. I crouched down with them, looked at the mud mixed with flakes of croissant. I listened to their little fights, watched their funny necks, and tried to see which pigeon I could photograph with the most interesting shoes from passers-by.

The kid with bright red sneaks was too fast for me to catch a pigeon portrait, in case you’re wondering.

And it’s so funny, isn’t it, that I can be in a place like London (best city in the world) and get a little tired and done and want a biscuit — and then, just by focusing on something a little smaller, I find another surge of energy and excitement for the world.

I watched the pigeons in St Paul’s, but I imagine there are pigeons I should watch here at home. Except I don’t think we have pigeons? We have seagulls? Which if I think about being in a land-locked state, that’s kind of incredible, isn’t it?