I was folding sheets with herself on the landing when I heard a coo from a pigeon which appeared to come from the fireplace in my room. Something about the acoustics of the chimney makes pigeons up on the roof sound like they are cooing in the chimney breast. I find it peaceful. It reminds me of the pigeons in the huge lime tree that grew in the garden of the house I grew up in. You could hear them right up on the third floor, cooing softly as you went about your important childish business. “Can you hear the pigeons from your fireplace too?” I asked her thinking how this might also one day be one of her beloved childhood memories. “Yes,” she said “and, I think, filthy sky rats up my chimney.”