One day, a pigeon perched on our kitchen windowsill. It looked like seven misfortunes – soaked and cold. Perhaps nothing unusual. However, when my wife left sunflower seeds on the windowsill, the visits became regular, its unusual behaviour caught our attention.
Time and again, it would peer into the flat with great enthusiasm, and upon seeing us, it would shift from one foot to the other in a comical way. This peculiar dance of joy repeated itself at every morning meeting. When, in our haste, we sometimes did not react, it would begin to fly up and down onto the windowsill, as if to make sure we noticed it, letting us know it was there and waiting. After a quick check of the informations about pigeon, it turned out she was female. Gru, because we gave her name, has been coming to us for another winter. The daily patter of her feet and her approach is a ritual. When she started arriving with her partner, we had the opportunity to observe their strong bond – how they cared for each other, kept their feathers clean, and even cuddled. At one such moment, as they sat quietly on the windowsill, enjoying their fill and observing the yard, I decided to take a photo of Gru. A photo capturing essence, life, happiness, and peace.
Thanks to Gru, I had the opportunity to learn about a species of incredibly intelligent, yet underappreciated, birds. If we get to know them better, we discover that not only are they masters of aerial acrobatics and evasive manoeuvres, but pigeons can also recognise a human face even after a long time apart, and, surprisingly, even in a photo.
Often, as I walk down the street next to my house, a few pigeons sometimes sit on the fence. One of them, upon seeing me, toddles over and sometimes flies up – "It's me, Gru," it seems to say. One pigeon.
2025 Photography. Limited edition 10 pcs + 2AP, pigment print on the cotton Fine Art paper, 640×900 mm (500×750 mm without borders)