This flock is a delight to visit (for me, at least, because I'm training them). They are currently (October 2024) becoming trained on the clicker, for "come." One of the birds swooped down in front of me, just earlier, today, as I arrived. I was positioned in an unfamiliar place, for feeding's sake, so it was especially flattering that the bird recognized me by the clicker.
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| Some of the pigeon flock at Figueroa at 4th St. Underpass. |
This flock is particularly charming for its resilience in the face of challenges. Several of the birds (much more than by averages of other flocks) have visible battle scars, in the form of deformed and swollen feet, from having string tied around their feet, by former trappers that frequented the area, although they're here no longer, I seem to notice. I'm not well-versed in trapping the pigeons, to save them from their plight, at this time. I just show up and feed them. You can check out some of their quaint and isolated behaviors (although fairly common fare, for pigeons; I just felt that they could be a control flock, eventually, in psychological terms, with their progress and development in mind, on account of their isolation) in some video footage I captured while socializing my deceased pigeon friend that I brought along, and wrote an article on, a couple of weeks ago, below.
Here, you can see my pigeon friend is being investigated by one of the males in the Figueroa at 4th St. Underpass flock's regular members.
Regardless of being new to the place, my pigeon friend felt right at home with the new birds, and he took to some sharing of the same meal as the other birds, while we visited.
This bird, (unnamed, so far) is one of the more charming of the flock. He had a broken leg happen to him, several months ago, and it hasn't quite healed properly, but he could potentially heal up and be just fine, some day.
The location is fairly quiet, lately, and, as I noted, isolated, but it's ideal if you happen to show up with food for the birds, and you can spot them roosting on the light poles. They'll swoop down and accept food, if they spot you tossing some out, in many cases. If you have a clicker, that's even better, because they're becoming trained on clicker noises.
Autumn 2025 updates:
I’d been coming here regularly, now, for perhaps 2 years. The flock has stayed a fairly steady 12 core resident birds, here (the birds here are partially learned helplessness subjects, but, for example, as I arrived, today, the birds were out for a flight, so I suppose that they have somewhere to go, when they want to, or, perhaps, when they need to, which they don’t, really, since the flock here is relatively isolated from other flocks nearby that I know about. Regardless, in the summertime, I observed that, on one day, there were about 20 birds present, so that could have been their young, that had moved out, to live somewhere else, and they returned home to the cool enclave where they roost - a shady spot that’s practically impervious to heat waves.
Some of the flock had returned, since I started writing this update:
I like this flock, in particular, because of its isolation - there’s rarely any humans that visit or frequent the location, and it’s kind of a cozy connection to have, knowing that they (probably) largely depend on me showing up, for their meal times. There used to be a homeless encampment here, and some of the birds here show signs of having been trapped, previously. Fortunately, none of them are too badly maimed, just some lost toes, here and there, and one crooked-legged pigeon. I also like this flock because sometimes they’ll spot me walking up, from a distance, and they’ll fly out to greet me, knowing that I’ll feed them.