Chain of Command

A steady march along the public walkway brought me to the park plaza. I climbed onto the wide granite ledge of the central planter, an ideal vantage point overlooking the weekend traffic. Beside my feet, a stray metal bottle cap rested overturned, disrupting the clean line of the coping stone. I planted my cane against the masonry, using its base to flip the cap upright and nudge it squarely against the stonework groove. From this refined post, I observed the flock of pigeons below. A broad, dark-collared bird promptly commandeered the scattered breadcrumbs, directing the perimeter with decisive pecks. A natural chain of command. I nodded in approval.