My wood pigeons have a survival instict.

Yesterday afternoon, I was looking out of the window, as I often do and watched as two wood pigeons looked over their shoulders and split in opposite directions. One of these wood pigeons was chased by a sparrowhawk, which was gliding in. I think it was a failed attack, because after a few seconds it flew back wence it came. And I sat down again, wishing I had a camera that could have taken some pictures. Perhaps, the security camera my neighbour downstairs has caught the footage. It was great to see.

I’m guessing that my visiting raptor is young and not very good at catching it’s prey. This makes me happy, because I like my wood pigeons and it’s good to see that they are thriving without the food I used to give them on my window feeder. It’s also good to see that a sparrowhawk has made it in to spring. It’s amazing that I’ve made it so far as well, but that’s no guarantee of making it in to summer. The survival instinct seems to be universal, but sometimes that’s not enough.

Being an amazing evolved animal on a possibly unique planet in an incredibly massive universe isn’t always enough. Life is competitive and there are winners and losers. It’s only the winners that count, but they need the losers to feed on. But they need many more of them so they can benefit from their poverty too. What’s worse is knowing that you’re a loser with a survival instinct. What these animals/people need is levels of lover society beneath them to make them feel better or less likely to be attacked.

The springtime change in the weather is going to do a lot of heavy lifting to keep me going. It still hasn’t warmed up yet and the rain will be on the way in a few weeks, previous years are anything to go by. If we’re lucky, we might even have snow again before May. But this is tough, and I know that summer doesn’t last long.

I’ve had enough now. There are some good times – not that many – but there are some small moments of joy. But I’m not a very good hunter, more of a scavenger feeding on the scraps. I’ve been aware of this for years and it’s weighing me down now. I’m too tired to survive.