A few weeks back I posted about a dove that had built a nest on an unused planter on our front porch.I’d read that mourning doves choosing your house was a sign of peace and tranquility.Each morning I went out for a jog, the dove’s little head would pop up and she would eyeball me.There was no fear in that gaze, but rather serenity.She was sitting on her eggs and knew I wouldn’t hurt her.Several days ago she was gone from the nest.We were out for a family walk when my daughter noticed.We crept up to see two good-sized chicks sitting there instead.Within days we had a couple of young birds flapping around the yard, trying to learn how to live on their own.
I missed the dove, though.The nest was empty.I felt less bad about stepping into somebody else’s bedroom every time I went out the door, but still, I’d grown accustomed to having her—them—on the porch.This week when I again went out for a jog (the jogging never ends), she was back.She looked at me with a knowing stare.Ours was apparently a safe house.Mourning doves, I read on the Cornell University ornithology site, can raise a brood of two in six to eight weeks.From the laying of eggs to abandoning the nest is only a two-month proposition.The website then went on to say that doves will sometimes return to their previous nest.This one obviously had.
Peace is a rare commodity these days.Stress seems to be our daily matrix.How long will our jobs hold out?Will opening up the economy lead to a second wave?(Likely yes.)Will we be able to make mortgage payments if our companies can’t weather the storm?Who really owns this house anyway?There is a serenity to relinquishing anxieties of ownership.A kind of freedom to belonging to a world that will, at least in some nations, help you make it through a crisis intact.There’s a wisdom to the animal world that we too often ignore.We can find peace if we look for it.One cold morning I found one of the chicks sheltering on the leeward side of our fence.I took her some sunflower seeds since she looked so miserable.I don’t know if she ate them or not, but I knew that we humans had benefited from having her under our roof.Such gifts are worth more than might be imagined.
