I passed this on the turnpike but I didn't get a chance to stop. I already feel a profound regret.
I'm sort of afraid it's a farm for pigeons that people will eventually shoot. I'd try to free the pigeons if that were the case. I'd sneak in wearing all black -- the pigeon ninja. I'd free them and in their gratitude, they would become my loyal army. Fred Phelps would disappear and then be found at the bottom of the world's largest deposit of pigeon poo. Or perhaps carried to a considerable height and then dropped. Although I wouldn't want any of my little pigeon soldiers to be harmed.
I've always liked pigeons, although most people consider them rats with wings. These people tend to hate bats, which I also love. I've always wanted to have pet bats, but I don't know how I'd be able to pull that off. What I do know is that Bert and The Count were the best characters on Sesame Street.
When I was in Venice, I was the only person in my family who'd let all the pigeons eat from her hands. They land all over you -- even on your head, despite the food being only in your hands. But it's close to the food, and that's good enough for them. I can understand a desire just to be near food. This is why I am the Pigeon Whisperer.