Sleepy Sundays: Old Friend

Old Friend Old Friend

The first time I saw a Mourning Dove, a family of them had made a nest between one of our outdoor lights and the house. Being just a small child at the time, I was absolutely fascinated by their every movement. 

At first it was just the male and female. Then, shortly after, the male took off somewhere and it was just a noticeably pregnant mama bird. I’ll never forget the morning my grandfather came to wake me shouting “Your little friends! You’ve got to see them!”

The mama bird had been hiding and protecting her eggs. That morning, there were three little baby doves popping their heads out of the nest. They were adorable. They weren’t the featherless, ugly little buggers some birds hatch. These birds hatched with tiny fuzzy feathers and were already a considerable size. Sadly, something happened to the mother a few days later. She had completely disappeared. So, we took in the babies and raised them. The day we had to set them free, I cried like a baby. Then, it was later explained to me that those birds were called “Mourning Doves” for their distinct coo-ing sound that resembles someone sobbing softly. That only made them more special to me, having lost my father at a young age, and his strangely coincidental love of birds.

Yesterday, some friends of mine laid to rest another friend of mine. Although I couldn’t attend the service, I had my friends on my mind all day. When I finally stepped outside with my son, what do you think I saw perched upon a relative’s fence? The little fellow stared at me for a bit. It watched my every move and was not startled by me at all. It even got pretty close before giving me one last look and flying off.

Is it any surprise it inspired this art?

Is there any animal that seems to visit you?

Have a restful Sunday!

(& Have a safe and happy Memorial Day weekend!)

 

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8 thoughts on “Sleepy Sundays: Old Friend

  1. There is a lovely song, entitled “We become birds” (when we die). It has comforted me through many losses.

    We had a nest of mourning doves outside my son Jacob’s room when he was a baby. Every day, he’d say “g’mornin, Doves!”

    Liked by 1 person

      1. It’s a nice name, but I learned to my dismay when he was 4 that everybody else loved it too and named their son Jacob as well. We went to the playground on a number of different occasions and every boy there was named Jacob!

        Liked by 1 person

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