We were tested and found wanting. It looked hopeful for a while. Maybe I jinxed it by worrying. Last week I woke one morning, pulled up the blind, and there, on the arbor outside the window, were two mourning doves. Just sitting there, looking round and self-important. I had never seen doves up there, but there they were. For a long time.
And the next day, too, not first thing in the morning, but later on in the day, they came back, sat there for a little while. I thought maybe they were looking over property, finding good real estate for a new home. We have nice real estate. Choose us.
The third day one of the doves nestled in among the dried wisteria twigs. Trying it on for size, I thought. Are they going to pick us? Are they? Are they?
In baby (bird) mode, I got excited, starting looking out the window more and more often. Started the bird equivalent of knitting booties–wondered if I should leave food out, what kind, where.
Then I began to worry. Squirrels can climb up onto the arbor. That’s not safe. And once we saw a hawk. It’s exposed up there–shouldn’t they find a more hidden place?
Maybe I worried them away. I haven’t seen the doves in several days. Maybe they’re looking over other properties, still considering. But I have the feeling they’ve turned us down. I try to cheer myself up by thinking about how much hosing down of the patio would have been needed. And maybe the chirping would have been annoying. But we would have had a front row view of the nest-building, the eggs, the babies, the learning to fly, the flyig away, the empty nest. Oh, well..
At least it looks as if spring may really be on its way.
You are such a loving mother, waiting-to-be-one-again, that I am sure they will return. And if they do not reappear, an amorous pair of cardinals will take their place.