The Dove…

As I sit on the patio upstairs I first noticed an air fern perching, large and mighty in the sprawling evergreen.


Its plump, fresh foliage sits in stark contrast to the sparse and thinning boughs of the juniper and I am delighted by the symbiosis of nature.

Then a small brown mourning dove catches my eye and I peer through the screen to better grasp what I am seeing.

It stares back unblinkingly at me and doesn’t move.

She sits there all day and into the evening without a stir, incubating her clutch of eggs, focused, unflinching, patient.

The Mum in me wonders what she’s doing for food?

In the morning she has changed position and I can see her tail feathers sitting high above her nest as if she is poised, precariously for flight.

She doesn’t budge for another day and no other dove comes near to offer her food or give her a break and I worry that she may die of thirst.


Other doves strut across the deck below pecking at seed dropped from the feeder,

“Where is her mate?” I ask Hubs, “why doesn’t he come and keep her company?  She must be starving and bored!”

In the evening she is staring at me again and I hear a dove cooing in another tree.

I look up the habits of the mourning dove and learn that they do indeed take turns to sit on an ill-made nest for the 2-3 weeks of incubation.

I am relieved!

That explains the change in position on the nest.

She gets a 12 hour break, although its him I’ve been worrying about; the male dove broods during the day.

During her shift the light draws in and she vanishes into the shadows.

This morning there is no dove, I don’t see anything in the sparse gathering of twigs either.  I look at Hubs,

“Perhaps she said to her mate, ‘oops forgot to lay the eggs, my bad’ and flew off!”  I suggest.

“Or perhaps a cat got her!” he replies.

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El Ray

2015-07-03 13:37:36 Reply

They just had a good laugh on us! There never were any eggs!

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