Member-only story
The Bird Man
Some heroes don’t wear capes
Every day, I pass this newspaper stand on my way to work. I mean, it might have been a newspaper stand, but all it sells now is gum, Gatorade, snacks, and lottery tickets.
I don’t know the man who runs it. I’ve bought lottery tickets from him on a couple of occasions, but that has been the extent of our interactions.
I’ve also noticed that there are always birds on the ground near the newspaper stand. Pigeons mainly, but the occasional sparrow or finch. Truthfully, I’ve never really paid them much attention. Unlike when I visited my friends in Florida, and they were amazed when a pigeon came to join us for an outside lunch, pigeons are part of my daily existence.
Finally (after an embarrassingly long time), I made the connection that the man with the newspaper stand was putting out bird feed every morning.
That’s me, quick on the uptake.
Two months ago, I was on my daily commute when I sneezed in front of the “bird man.” The birds scattered into the air, startled by my eruption. I swear, if looks could kill, that man glared at me.
That’s right, GLARED.
If he could have sicced the birds on me, like the monkeys in The Wizard of Oz, he might have.
I quickly hurried along, feeling a little bad that I interrupted the birds’ breakfast.
Despite the look of death, he gave me, I appreciate this man. I’ve never seen anyone else specifically feed the pigeons in this city. He’s doing a service, and it obviously brings him joy.
So thank you, “bird man.” Thank you for feeding the sky urchins of Philadelphia. I will always remember to take my antihistamine in the morning so we don’t have a repeat performance.