There’s a group of pigeons who sit on a telephone wire that I walk past each day, and every time I see them, they look less like birds and more like a line of old men sitting on a porch talking about the weather. Sometimes I pause for a few seconds to look up at them (being careful not to stand directly beneath them, of course).
I make up names for each pigeon/old man. The one with the bum leg is Rufus. The fat one is Milt. The energetic one is Cliff. I imagine them sharing stories about how the grandkids are doing, how the neighbourhood is changing, how young pigeons don’t appreciate what they have.
Then I realize I’m late for work, and I move on.
What makes this a beautiful song:
2. The way the flutes interact. A great way to get the listener to imagine a group of chatting birds.
3. At 3:08, the percussionist stops drumming and moves over to the vibraphone.
Recommended listening activity:
Sitting in a rocking chair on your front porch.