Florence at 17 or 18
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3Fbo9m2Z7meU_x8lGuXHITBfz6cUYHTPjm4aBf1pEDfGfjWuFZFDjW2JUVvUIgMTRCjkWgulGSpDCCiEOwWnR4YLfxDegV6yPzYUw2q2Qm-Zc4xoxLIkWg3OwMGFIQIkq0DfJO8Ks1C3/s320/pigeon-fdm3.jpg)
Often, going to the zoo or any other place outside, the pigeons were as important as what we were there for.
My father and my sister, age 3
at the South Seaport
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By the time I came around, "rats on wings" had entered New York vocabulary. Besides, I was partial to sparrows and feral cats. Still, the peace of those old photos filled me today as I watched the homeless man share his food with his pets.
Small Plaza by
Penn Station
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