This clever wheat paste shimmers with innuendos.  That this is a paper crane, is enough to evoke  Kawabata's novel Thousand Cranes. After rereading this in Tokyo last December I am still intrigued, the characters are cracking like old Satsuma ware in a dishwasher, their morality fragile, their will to escape fate etoiliated by melancholy that is as oprressive as it is appealing.  It seems like in the case of the young victim of the Hiroshima's atomic bomb, in the later book ,A Thousand Paper Cranes, fate is a kind of genotoxicity.
But that is too bleak, the upside here is a bird's capacity to navigate both by their own 'genetic map' and to read the landscape they fly over. Pigeons often fly along roads, turning where the road goes. Bravo I say, to them and their celebration in wheat paste.