Around 530 each afternoon you can hear whistling move through our block of flats as one of my more eccentric neighbors makes his way out to feed the parking lot birds. I passed him doing this one of the first nights I was living here, and all he said was, "Aren't I a good whistler? I feed the pigeons every night so my cats have something to look at while they have their dinner." At first I thought it was just a weird example of why I'm not a cat person, but more often than not I'm right at the balcony watching with them.