me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
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Tinsel in the air

Not really, but that's what it looked like. A vast cloud of pigeons hovering about fifteen feet above the street, flapping their wings to stay in place. Pigeons don't usually hover, they swoop and circle. I of course had to stop and figure out what was going on. This: a guy, a classic grouchy New York nut, was feeding them. He had a big bag of birdseed he'd slit open and was sprinkling along the curb. The pigeons hit the air again every time a car went by, but none of them wanted to go far. If the line of cars was long about half the birds -- there must have been 150 of them -- would go sit on a branch in a nearby tree, but apparently that was considered wimpy, because you wouldn't get back in the first wave after the cars passed. So the tough ones hovered, flapping white, brown or gray wings, catching the light, looking like glittering tinsel.

(Note: It's not illegal to feed pigeons in NYC, except where noted -- and in some parks it is noted -- but it's kind of ridiculous. City pigeons are scavengers. As long as people ditch half-eaten bagels, they'll manage. Still, that some grumpy coots actually buy bird seed for them is one of the reasons I love New York.)

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