STAGE 2
Columba Livia Urbana
(Columba livia), descendants that have escaped and are living independently from (and often unwanted by) humans, having gone "feral". They are also called city doves, city pigeons, or street pigeons. Wild rock doves, domestic pigeons, and feral pigeons are all the same species and will readily interbreed. Many domestic birds have been lost, escaped or been released over the years, and these gave rise to populations of feral pigeons. Feral pigeons inhabit man-made structures such as buildings as a substitute for cliffs and other rock formations. Their domestic ancestry predisposed them to living near humans, and they subsequently became adapted to urban life, being abundant in towns and cities throughout much of the world.
They are often described as a public nuisance, being a potential reservoir of disease and cause of property damage, through their habits and numbers. Many authorities and citizens consider them to be pests and an invasive species, often disparagingly referred to as "rats with wings". Actions are taken in many municipalities to lower their numbers or completely eradicate them.
Furthermore, Columba Livia Urbana exhibit several habits in the urban setting:
are birds derived from domesticated populations of the rock dove
Loitering
weather, or the general wishes of the people around it. It moves in loose, unhurried clusters, descending without warning on any surface where food has been spotted or merely suspected, and disperses just as suddenly with a clatter of wings that startles everyone except itself. It is not especially fast, not especially cautious, and not especially concerned with the impression it makes. It will stand in the middle of a busy pavement and make the humans walk around it. It congregates outside fast food outlets, transport hubs, and public squares with the quiet authority of something that has nowhere else to be and no intention of leaving; watching, waiting, and eating whatever falls.
is a common habit of the pigeons. occupying public spaces for hours with no apparent agenda, indifferent to foot traffic,
In Movement
it strolls with the unhurried confidence of something that has never once been late for anything, bobbing its head in that peculiar forward-thrusting motion as though perpetually on the verge of a discovery that never quite arrives. It meanders without clear direction, pausing frequently for no observable reason, occasionally changing course entirely mid-stride with no explanation offered. When it does take flight it is sudden and dramatic; a loud, percussive eruption of wings that suggests far greater urgency than the situation typically warrants rising steeply before levelling into a fast, arrow-straight glide that covers the length of the street in seconds. It lands with the same abruptness it departed with, folding its wings and immediately resuming the stroll as though nothing happened, picking up precisely where it left off with no apparent memory of having just been airborne.
Critical Links
