My garden has about 17 regular Pigeon scavengers daily, but only one of them tries to look in the back kitchen window, or through the frosted glass door, to see if what I'm doing may be to its advantage, like scooping up an abundant supply of peanuts. My inquisitive visitor is not like its fellow Pigeons: it's more beige/pink in hue, just a tad more nervous and, unlike its colleagues, isn't interested in mixed fruit and prefers peanuts. Sometimes it becomes so agitated by the prospect of food, it flaps its wings outside the translucent glass door until it attracts my attention sufficiently to be assured of plentiful broadcasting of comestibles, ideally peanuts. It's going to do itself an injury if it persists in such displays, although so far it's had sense enough to take a rest on the fence and, with head cocked to one side, assess results, waiting for the turning of the door handle which usually signifies success. He reminds me in many ways of Wonky Bill, an erstwhile friend of mine who ultimately succumbed to the unwelcome attentions of a Sparrowhawk. Wonky used to tap on the window with his crooked beak (hence, wonky bill) when it was time for his breakfast... much missed, bless him. They say there's nowt so queer as folk, but I reckon Pigeons could give us a few lessons in quirky personalities.