They* climbed from the gutter and onto the sidewalk, missing my front tire by a few feathers.
If I hadn’t seen—and touched—Maria’s pigeon a few weeks ago, I would have been shocked that this one came so close to me and didn’t fly way as I drew closer. They did, however, fly away once I started riding, which led me to believe (or at least hope) they’re not sick.
Now I’m going to tell you a secret: They and I are part of a conspiracy to gentrify the neighborhood.
Ok, so that was a joke. We’re not the only white folks in the neighborhood. And although it’s not the Upper West Side or even Astoria, this part of the Bronx doesn’t seem to need (or want) gentrifying: It’s working- and middle-class, racially and ethnically mixed with, it seems, more of both “traditional” families and LGBTQ people than I expected.
I must say, though, that even in the most posh NYC neighborhoods, I don’t see many people or other beings whiter than I am. And it’s not often that my ride is momentarily disrupted by a pigeon.
*—Have I become everything the Faux News/MAGA crowd hates? I’m even referring to animals by gender-neutral pronouns!
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