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I got today’s prompt from Marc at Daily Writing, who had got it from Greg at Protagonize.

They wrote poems (you can find Greg’s poem in the comments of Daily Writing) but I am just going to write.

Pigeon Vigil

I know they are there. Thirty years will not have halted the generations long vigil. Thirty years will not have dampened the stout hearts within their iridescent breasts. They would be different if I went back today. Long gone would be the cripple with feet taken by some unknown danger. Our mom had speculated that perhaps the little one had landed on a bare section of electrical line as she helped us coax the more hardy ones aside so that bits of bread could be more easily tossed to the crippled pigeon. Even then I wondered just how many others must do the same until that sole pigeon was the most well fed of all the pigeons.

They kept vigil on the power lines, roof ledges and other high areas of Marina Del Rey. They watched, ever alert for the passing visitor to pause and toss an offering to them. As I remember them now they were a very courteous flock of pigeons. Until they saw the gentle arc of bread. Descending down to the morsel they would scrabble to be the first one to it, flying away as soon as they had claimed their prize to perch once again in their chosen vantage point. Carefully selected for its view of the area favored by visitors feeding the pigeons.

I should like to return there one day. To sit on the small bench I can see in my minds eye and toss bread to the boardwalk for the pigons that have no doubt maintained their long vigil.

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Okay, perhaps it does not exactly mesh with the spirit of the word vigil, but the first thing I thought of when I read ‘pigeon vigil’ was those pigeons at Marina Del Rey.