An Afternoon Mourning Dove

Often, when I am cutting up vegetables, or doing the pots and pans, or just in general slaving away at the kitchen sink...I see a mother robin in my neighbors front yard. One day, I went out to see if I could find a nest.

I was met in their front yard by my little neighbor Keegan. I think Keegan is going to be 7 in October. It took Keegan over 4 years before either me or my wife could get a "hello" out of him. And...my wife is real nice and real neighborly. Now...we have trouble keeping hin quiet.

"What you doin, Mr. Tim?"

"I'm trying to find a robins nest."

"Is that your camera?"

"It sure is."

We looked up in Keegans birch tree, and instead of a robin...we saw this mourning dove in the second crotch of the tree. (Where else can you get away with saying crotch?) I started snapping away. After 5 or 6 pictures...Keegan spoke.

"Hey, Mr. Tim...can I take one?" I had visions of his dirty little 6 year old hands on my camera. I may have half-cringed. I hope he did'nt notice.

"Sure, you can try it." I made sure the strap went around his neck, he snapped off a couple of shots...and, who knows...maybe the little guy is the next Ansel Adams. I hope he remembers me when he becomes famous. ("I owe it all to my wonderful neighbor Tim...who let me take my first picture.")

One day, we came home from church, and our back porch was covered with bright red feathers and a red beak. The top of the food chain in the neighborhood had struck again. The bully hawk. The outlaw. The renegade.

I half-joked to my wife, "I realize the hawk has to eat, BUT, does he have to attack my cardinals? Why can't he go after the mourning dove? They are a lot slower, and he would get a lot more meat." I can't figure it out. Maybe the hawk likes red meat.

I do like the doves, and would feel bad if Henry the Hawk got one. I love to listen to them "cooing." The only bird in my backyard who is on my undesirable list is the grackle. Don't like them.

Spent the morning going to garage sales with my older sister Terrie. As my sister Lisa says, "There was a lot of crap-ola." Not a good day for bargain-hunters.