I was walking through Warsaw’s Old Town market square when I noticed a sudden flurry among all the pigeons.
One minute the pigeons, like me, had been randomly strolling the cobblestones, taking their time. The next, they were hustling and cooing and flying and flocking down toward the pump end of the square.
They had seen something that meant a lot to them–the slow approach of a pink-parka-wearing woman with grocery bag.
The birds flocked to her, she turned the bag upside down, and cobbles around her were covered an inch deep in bread crumbs.
The friend of the pigeons had turned up with lunch, one more time.