The pigeon flew off in a hurry when I approached, as if I were some kind of intruder. She ended up perched on top of a streetlamp but I just managed to take a quick snap of her before she flew off again. A lone pigeon in such a large garden struck me as strange. It brought to mind an old Mexican song I know, “Cucurrucucu Paloma“, which is both beautiful and sad, and which would touch the heart of anyone who heard it sung by Caetano Veloso: “They say that at nights all he could do was cry all the time. They say he wouldn’t eat, that all he could do was drink and drink. They swear that heaven itself would tremble if it could hear him cry. He suffered so much because of her that even on his death he was calling for her.” Written in 1954 by Mexican songwriter Tomás Méndez, the song is about a man overwhelmed by the sadness of unrequited love, and about how pain caused by sorrow can last forever. The song tells how the man dies and comes back as a pigeon, hoping to win back the love of his life. But there’s no going back, because she is as hard as stone (“Forget stones, pigeon, what can they know of love…”). I walked away whistling the song as rainclouds darkened the sky. Any pigeon can tell you it’s not worth suffering for love, and that’s something men should know too.