I saw a pigeon get hit by a car today. I cannot but think of it as a bad omen. I was walking down my block--my arms laden with the new green rug freshly delivered from Pottery Barn--which I despised. I was on my way to return it. Just as I got to the corner I saw it...the car speeding over the pigeon--I gasped as did the other people who witnessed it. The pigeon was stunned, it's wings akimbo--or broken--as it flopped dazedly in the middle of the street. I stood immobilized-watching-with a dead weight in the pit of my stomach and an ache in my throat. Another car immediately flew over the hapless bird, the wind pressure causing the bird to roll a little on the ground. And then it happened. Some guy, crazy or homeless or just kind ran out into the street, heedless of the mid-morning traffic. He huddled down and with gentle hands picked up the disoriented bird. The man walked across the street and deposited the pigeon on the sidewalk in a little niche by the church. I walked on,queasy, with my heavy green burden, tears swimming just behind my eyelids. I wonder if the bird is all right.