A pigeon, with feather leg warmers growing all the way to its ankles, pecks at a morsel on the sidewalk. The crumb tastes inedible, and by reflex the bird opens its beak and drops the crumb back onto the sidewalk. It gives the speck another try and it still tastes bad, so it lets it go. It’s starting to get agitated, maybe by my presence on the other side of the window. It takes at least three more frantic swipes at the crumb, the gag reflex kicking in each time, and finally it skitters away.