Recently I have moved deeper into the heart of Kansas City. Little did I expect to be closer to nature, in the midst of busy sidewalks and nearby sirens. But, nature came to me. Sitting in a little garden on my second floor balcony, I happened to look deep into a sweet gum tree below. The muted color of turtle doves makes them difficult to see, surrounded by foliage., but there it was—a little nest with two doves in a flurry. One flew back and forth with little pieces of twigs. Sometimes they both left the nest. One night, the mother bird began her vigil while the male bird sat on the edge of the railing making the coo-cooing sound. I was watching from behind as the little bird’s shoulders and entire body seemed to be creating the song.
The next day, I checked them out, first thing in the morning, and got a glimpse of one white egg. The mother bird seemed not to leave the nest. Today marks the second day that she has just sat there. Probably food is being flown in to her, but I have wondered what she was doing about water. Time to get out the bird book and learn about mourning doves. A quick google tells me both male and female work on building the nest and both take turns tending it. This incubation goes on for 14 days. The birds mate for life. I am watching lessons of patience in a tree. I see that sometimes just sitting is enough. Watching nature teaches us to believe in our instincts that are an inner guidance system. Overriding that system, as we humans are prone to do, is serious business!
Yes, there is now a little container of mealworms in my fridge (that I trust are safe from hungry humans)! The clerk at the bird store explained how these and millet are ideal foods to have around for doves. They really don’t need my help at all, but something in me wants to be a part of this simple and beautiful happening unfolding
in a tree.