<p>The Butterfly ginger lily plant, in a large clay pot, with its refreshingly fragrant white flowers, was easily one of the best smelling flowers on our balcony, matched only perhaps by the tantalising fragrance of the jasmine, growing in an adjoining pot. The mornings in the balcony, overlooking the stately river, meandering through a serpentine path was something I seldom missed. The experience of sipping my coffee, while seated on the balcony, drinking in the sights and sounds of the river below, and the sight of a motley collection of avians was far too precious for me to miss!</p>.<p>It was on one such morning that my wife noticed one of the stalks of the lily plants had bent, and there in the dark brown soil of the pot, was an off-white oval-shaped egg, roughly the size of a lemon. A pigeon perched itself on the balcony railings and its mere presence told us in no uncertain terms as to where the egg’s ownership lay! Not wanting to frighten the bird, we quietly moved away. The pigeon didn’t lose time. It was back to doing what it was doing earlier. The next morning the egg had company, another one had found its place beside the one we noticed the previous day!</p>.<p>I had umpteen occasions to do a study of pigeons in the days that followed. I realised that these creatures are so very common that most people don’t even look twice. Bluish grey in colour, two black bands across each of the wings, a multi-coloured neck, a white mark on the beak and a coloured pair of eyes makes them rather mundane. Initially, it felt threatened by our presence on the balcony and would scamper off leaving its hatching duties. The ‘escape’ was never so far as not to return as soon as we left!</p>.<p>I realised that hatching was not just one pigeon’s responsibility. There was another partner and the job was distributed. The initial scampering on the sighting of a human in the balcony was followed by a hop, skip and jump to the railings from where the ‘intruder’ was assessed by a quixotic bobbing of its 360° head. Slowly it realised that the human meant no harm. The entry of one of us to the balcony would be greeted by some squirming at best. The pigeon has now reached a stage of stoicism where it remains seated in the pot, its eyes only half-open.</p>.<p>A huge test of trust as far as the pigeon is concerned has been passed! I guess it is only a matter of time now before two tiny lives come out into this world! </p>
<p>The Butterfly ginger lily plant, in a large clay pot, with its refreshingly fragrant white flowers, was easily one of the best smelling flowers on our balcony, matched only perhaps by the tantalising fragrance of the jasmine, growing in an adjoining pot. The mornings in the balcony, overlooking the stately river, meandering through a serpentine path was something I seldom missed. The experience of sipping my coffee, while seated on the balcony, drinking in the sights and sounds of the river below, and the sight of a motley collection of avians was far too precious for me to miss!</p>.<p>It was on one such morning that my wife noticed one of the stalks of the lily plants had bent, and there in the dark brown soil of the pot, was an off-white oval-shaped egg, roughly the size of a lemon. A pigeon perched itself on the balcony railings and its mere presence told us in no uncertain terms as to where the egg’s ownership lay! Not wanting to frighten the bird, we quietly moved away. The pigeon didn’t lose time. It was back to doing what it was doing earlier. The next morning the egg had company, another one had found its place beside the one we noticed the previous day!</p>.<p>I had umpteen occasions to do a study of pigeons in the days that followed. I realised that these creatures are so very common that most people don’t even look twice. Bluish grey in colour, two black bands across each of the wings, a multi-coloured neck, a white mark on the beak and a coloured pair of eyes makes them rather mundane. Initially, it felt threatened by our presence on the balcony and would scamper off leaving its hatching duties. The ‘escape’ was never so far as not to return as soon as we left!</p>.<p>I realised that hatching was not just one pigeon’s responsibility. There was another partner and the job was distributed. The initial scampering on the sighting of a human in the balcony was followed by a hop, skip and jump to the railings from where the ‘intruder’ was assessed by a quixotic bobbing of its 360° head. Slowly it realised that the human meant no harm. The entry of one of us to the balcony would be greeted by some squirming at best. The pigeon has now reached a stage of stoicism where it remains seated in the pot, its eyes only half-open.</p>.<p>A huge test of trust as far as the pigeon is concerned has been passed! I guess it is only a matter of time now before two tiny lives come out into this world! </p>