Last week, as 40 mph winds swept up the country and kept swathes of people indoors, I passed a massive flock of pigeons just sat chilling in the park, chattering away to one another whilst some of them waddled around. They seemed to be appreciating the lower numbers of humans hanging about, and had pretty much commandeered the whole place to themselves. In the context of wider chaos caused by the weather, it made me smile.

I often feel a bit sorry for pigeons. I think they get quite a hard time, through no fault of their own. That’s not to say I’m about to go picking one up for a cuddle anytime soon, but I’m more than happy to co-exist on this land with them, and don’t find them as irritating as a lot of other people do. They’re just living beings at the end of the day, and aren’t we all capable of being a bit of a nuisance at times?

Last Summer I came across a pigeon that had been badly injured and was limping around in circles on a footpath, looking really pained. It was impossible to just walk by, and I spent thirty minutes phoning around local organisations for advice, trying to reassure old pidge that help would be coming and he’d be flapping those wings again soon. Nobody was really interested, and though I can absolutely understand the concerns around the potential to carry disease, it did break my heart a little that I ended up having to walk away from something experiencing clear distress. I’ll never know what happened to my little pigeon pal, but I can pretty much guess.

So call me silly, call me soppy, call me a 39 year old woman who likes cats (which I appreciate is slightly ironic), but now, every time I see pigeons who are bumbling about aimlessly – but healthily – my heart smiles a bit. Just let them be.

Plus, with all those jazzy greens and pinks on their necks, I think they have a pretty funky fashion sense too.