Today was cookie and tortilla day for the pigeons.

I cooked some peanut butter and chocolate chip cookie chunks up in the oven at my apartment early this morning. I couldn't sleep last night, and I definitely didn't want to finish an entire two packs of cookie dough. I found the tortillas out on the street this morning.

The birds identified that cookies are particularly tasty, and they pursued an incensed flurry of feathers flapping to get to the inside of the action forming around where the cookies were tossed.

A baby pigeon flaps its wings, early on in the out-of-nest feeding phase of growing up. A very young pigeon will squeak "Bay!! Bee!!" in an attempt to get fed by its elders.

It's oftentimes a competitive duel between the grownups as to how the food gets to one and each other.

Today was a particularly hot competition for food, given the weather, and that it was cookies being tossed at them.

Here, at the Los Angeles Mall, there is a drinking fountain where the birds have established a mid-afternoon (1:45 p.m.) routine. I figure that I might find them here more regularly, if they're not at the park lawn.

In this next photo, Old Ironsides entrusted the food by me on the ground, as I was sitting on a bench; I, perhaps, might some day be able to adopt him and take him in on a more restful place to roost, rather than that he has to use his one-footed leg, the other one cut off at the knee, giving him a limping hard time walking around, which is important for pigeons in their societally-capable lives.