Days of fierce wind have kept our windows closed and the birds fairly quiet. I’ve been reading Wim Wenders’ Once and found myself looking up all the names he’s dropped… slowly shutting down to the world around me. But today I woke to a sunrise and nearly blue skies. I opened the windows and was rewarded with the usual birds who brought me back to where I am. John sited a mourning dove. I understand they are common, but I have never seen one before. I confirmed them in the bird book and ran across these prose…
Two white eggs in a loosely constructed twig nest
built on the limb of a tree, low in a bush, or on the ground.
Both parents feed their young milk secreted from their crop.
Breeding season starts early and continues to mid September.
Up to four nestings a year maintain their numbers,
even though they are hunted extensively.
