The birds escorted me through the park. It felt a bit special - but I think they are just hungry.

I had just stopped for a moment next to the pond. I had my headphones in my pocket and thought it might be nice to use them. I put the vegetables down on the bench and reached into my jacket. I think this was a signal.

In a matter of seconds I was surrounded by birds. Ducks first, they are fast and cunning, pigeons second. A hundred expectant eyes and fresh, shiny winter coats. Even the pigeons were looking bright. They did not quite understand when I told them I had no food.

Eventually the ducks worked it out. They wandered off, keeping one eye on me, but another looking for fresh sources of sustenance. The pigeons however were much more optimistic.

I got the white buds into my ears, the gods of shuffle woke Chet Baker and he started to sing something appropriate and I continued the walk home. The pigeons came with me. Every few steps, those I had passed would fly up and land a a little ahead. As I moved, it was just a continuous flurry of white winter wings. And they did not give up. They came with me all across the park. For a little while I was the bird man.

Once upon a time, North America’s passenger pigeon was the most abundant bird in the world. There were up to 2 billion in a flock. Now there are none.