One of the great joys of being here at the farm has been watching our two pairs of morning doves. They are exquisitely beautiful with feathers ranging from the softest beige to snowy white. And while not precisely chums of mine, they did soar at tree heighth over me most mornings as I went on my rounds. The two pairs mostly hung out together hunting for food, chatting about the day, just plain lolling around enjoying life.
I would open my windows in the morning and hear them cooing at each other. Obviously they were the best of friends and well satisfied with their home in the trees bridging our driveway. They would walk away calmly if I approached but never panicked. Since this was a significant departure from the greetings I would get from the rest of the animal kingdom here, I appreciated it.
Yesterday there were no doves. As I walked down the driveway I saw a number of feathers scattered around. I heard no soothing coos. I saw nothing and heard nothing and I was alarmed. Today I was walking across our patio to check the possum trap and a lone dove came up to me. It nearly broke my heart. She walked straight up to me and in the gentlest possible manner, pecked at my pants leg. Then she stood with her head cocked looking at me. Her mate is gone and I am close to tears.
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