Day 249 of Current Days: Pigeon Residue
The dogs dance. They dance around me. They squeal. It is a squeal of delight. They look into my eyes. With pride. ‘Mother! Look what we have found’. Their eyes ask for approval. Can we eat this?
I look at the ground. In the middle of the joyful storm lies a small trophy. Residue of a pigeon. Pale rays of the morning sun flow softly around it, emphasizing the vividness of colors in the light, while suppressing form within the shadows. I like the bluish and pink reflexes of the feathers. I lean down to pick up the loot.
The dogs scream.
It is only a bunch of feathers, but they form an intriguing composition. The feathers are rather clean, but remain stuck together with the rest of the skin and whatever there was. Fluids of the bird. They remain joined by the quills. It doesn’t smell. The whole reminds me of a fishing fly. It would be quite a giant fish to catch with that one.
One of the bitches jumps up, resting her paws lightly on me. The dogs know they aren’t allowed to jump on me, but she couldn’t help herself. Yet she nudges me only slightly, careful not to soil my coat. I like how they strive to please me. They still hope I’ll let them tear the loot apart. Unfortunately, there is no such possibility. I accept the gift and slip it into my pocket. In exchange, I hand out treats. The dogs, still excited, accept the turn of events.
The Pigeon: Residue, 40×40 cm, Oil on canvas, III 2026
Study of a natural form of a fishing fly created by nature.