Yesterday I went to race in Central Park. Racewalkers must be crazy since it was alternately snowing, sleeting, hailing (not the taxi kind) and raining. As I was doing the second half of the race, I saw a wondrous event. One of the Peregrines took a pigeon off the ground and tried to fly away with it. It was too unwieldy a package so it flew down in the snow to stop for a moment. I ceased racing and tried to get closer. The falcon startled and flew up into a tree, shrieking and rasping, "Get away, get away." The pigeon didn't move. I thought it was dead. Suddenly it shook and flew off, newly elected "the accidental favor."