About a month ago when I returned from one of my recent journeys I was happy to hear the sweet droning and cooing sound of a pair of doves out my window. I'd look out and find them perched eloquently as only birds on a wire can be. For me, it was a sure sign of spring.
Then a few days later when I aggressively stormed out of the house across the patio to my office and studio I realized I startled one of the doves. Wings flapping and making noise, confused and briefly direction less the dove scattered away from my studio. I looked up at the room line of the house to watch him/her fly away. That's when I saw the next. Right there behind one of the speakers that fills my patio with music. Later I watched the doves bring twigs and leaves as they continued to build the nest.
I wondered that since the doves seemed to have complete the bulk of their busy work while I was out of town, that the presence of this loud human walking across the patio several times a day would cause the birds to rethink their domain for offspring. The nest remained. But I really hadn't seem much of the doves in the past few days. Then last night I heard what I realized was a bird flying into the glass of the French doors that open from my studio to the patio. Then I heard a lot of rustling. Next a flash of orange whisks by the door. The orange of the neighbor's cat. I run out and find the cat has cornered the bird. The bird is startled, scared and frozen. But after a few seconds gains strength and confidence and flies away. Neighbor's cat bolts.
I thought I saved the bird's life.
Today as I returned from a meeting I notice the nest seemed rustled. Then below the nest I saw the baby. The tiny little dove. The symbol of love that had yet to open its eyes. Less than 3 inches long and barely any feathers but with a cute yellow beak. Unfortunately, the life of this newborn was robbed right from the nest. And the symbol lay peacefully to rest on my patio.
I looked at the nest. Barely held together and precariously teetering on the speaker. I started to life the nest away when I noticed the little feet. Tiny little bird feet. There were still baby doves in the nest. Two. Wow. So I tried to put the nest back together. As my hand worked the branches into my pseudo best weave attempt the little head of one of the doves perched up and with open beak in a moan or cry like pose, called for mom. But no sound came out of the little bird. I folded my ladder and returned to work. I'm sure the parent doves were watching me from somewhere nearby.
The cycle of life. Love. Drama. Partnership. Birth. Beauty. Struggle. Relief. Chase. Family tragedy. Death. Sorrow. And life again. All from the window of my office. Who needs TV?
