Colin and Coline

Colin (wearing the rings) and Coline in post coital pose

Anyone who read my recent post about the lost racing pigeon must be wondering what has happened since. The first thing is that I named the pigeon Colin because French for a dove is une colombe. I am sure that Colin is English because he’s got that kind of sandals and socks Brit abroad look about him. 

Fellow bird lovers – I have great news. Colin has found Coline, a young local pigeon who was born here last year. Today, I spotted them shagging on a 15th century rafter in my barn. My guess is that pigeons have bobbed, cooed and spread their feathers in a mating flap on that beam since the time of “Green Gallant” king of France Henry IV.

A bird called Colin

At first it was just regular cooing but you get to know the sounds of love when you hang about in old French barns. So, I climbed up with my camera to be certain that it was indeed Colin. In the end I managed to get a shot of his rings, which of course, are not worn by local peasants. It looks to me as if he’s gonna  see out his mortal span in Saint Savinien. And I sure don’t blame him! Somewhere in’t north of England, a pigeon fancier is scanning the darkening dusk willing his bird to clock in. Colin shrugs and shags.

Now, I am a francofilly if ever there was one. All the same, I’m not sure that they always drive as safely and wisely as possible….need I say more? A couple of days ago I was on my bike in a nearby town and spotted the driver of a car about to pull off. It’s all done by smell…..

Emma thinx: When you get tired of flying – wing it.

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