Hey, Joe!

 Sometimes a seemingly-inconsequential decision can lead to encounter that is, if not life-changing, then at least interesting.

My rides to Point Lookout usually take me through a part of the Gateway National Recreation Area.  Straddling an isthmus on Jamaica Bay, that stretch of GNRA is smack-dab in the path of many migratory bird species. There is at least one species, however, that doesn't spend its winters in warmer climes--or stray very far from its urban habitats.

Most people have, at its closest, an arm's-length relationship with pigeons.  I have always assumed that the avoidance was mutual:  The birds no more want contact with us than we want with them.  That, for the most part, is true.  

However, as Maria--who rescued Joe--pointed out, the birds' reputation as "rats with feathers" is unfair.  Although they frequently land in dirty places, they frequently clean and groom themselves in much the same way as cats and dogs.  And what is commonly forgotten is the role pigeons have  played in relaying messages--and saving lives--during wars and natural disasters.

Joe did something I never imagined:  He craned his neck and touched the tip of his beak to my nose! 

If I didn't already feel good about being on my bike, Joe--and Maria--made a ride I've done, probably, hundreds of times all the more rewarding.