Racing the Pigeons

Glancing up from a literary journal, I was struck by the sight of a large flock of pigeons racing alongside the train, seemingly in escort. I had never known wild pigeons to fly in such large numbers, and as they fought their way bravely against the wind up the railyard, I found myself silently cheering them on. Scattered pigeons here and there fought for the lead, inevitably falling back and replaced by other strivers, but one dark gray and determined bird strongly held the forefront, enjoying no drafting from other birds and yet staying far ahead.

I sat mesmerized, in wonderment. Sensing the approaching expressway overpass, which I knew would disperse the flock, I stared transfixed, knowing the sight would soon be gone. As it was: the overpass forced them to scatter, a few venturing over the teeming lanes but most turning back. I was glad, even so briefly, to have shared the moment with them.