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People still keep coops of pigeons on their roofs in my Brooklyn neighborhood. There is one coop very nearby so that when I look out my front window I’m often able to witness a gorgeous, fighting-weight flock, swooping and circling. The birds turn together as if hearing some silent command. It is a fantastic act of choreography and one I never tire of seeing.

Years ago my husband wrote a story about the pigeon keepers of Coney Island. The men all belonged to a pigeon club and while they were bird lovers they also used the birds to gamble, betting which pigeon would make it back to the coop first. The men told my husband about a man from their club who’d been caught cheating at the bird races. My husband asked what happened to the cheater. There was silence. The men said nothing. Next question!

I love the city’s wild birds as well though I don’t regularly feed them except from my back fire escape. I can’t understand City Councilman Simcha Felder plans to ban pigeon feeding and fine those who break the law $1,000. Has he never seen a pigeon? They are beautiful. Their necks are like jewels. They have pink feet! And what would happen to all the lonely souls in NYC’s parks who depend on the birds for companionship? Perhaps they could show up at Councilman Felder’s house for supper.