"I had a dove and the sweet dove died." ...John Keats
Actually, I had two white doves given me by a Graham Group co-worker in the early '90's. They lived in a large round birdcage on the back porch. We obtained an even larger rectangular cage so they could be outside during the summer. Around it we built another cage out of wooden lattice for further security. Sad to say, it didn't keep something (a cat most likely) from breaking in and getting one of my birds one night.
I don't know where my love of doves came from, or when. I dreamed of having a large dovecote with dozens of doves - similar to one I saw in western Ireland. I remember a movie scene from the 60's where doves were shown flying in the glow of the setting sun. It was a very romantic part of the movie. (If I could only remember the title!) Maybe that's where my wish for a dovecote came from. And then there was Jimmy Smits in NYPD Blue going up to the rooftop to care for and talk to his pigeons when he needed to clear his head.
Even as a child, as my Mom taught me the songs of the different birds, I loved hearing the mourning doves. I still remember when she pointed out one of their scantily built nests wondering how the baby birds kept from tumbling out.
After losing one dove to a predator, I quit using the outside cage. I never knew the sex of my dove, but I named her Aileen - Scots for 'The Light of the Sun'. Not only did she coo, she also laughed and even had a sound like a turkey gobbling. When they were little, the grandchildren were entranced. They would hear Aileen chuckling on the back porch and want to go see her.
Our lone dove made the move with us to the farm in '95. Once again, I would put her in the outside cage as long as I was outside working. One Sunday afternoon when I was only going to be gone an hour or so to the Mother's Day Tea at the church, I left Aileen outside in the cage.
When I got home, Bud met me at the end of the walkway with the bad news: "One of your Mom's cats killed your bird. I've already buried her so you didn't have to see it."
"I had a dove and the sweet dove died."
Actually, I had two white doves given me by a Graham Group co-worker in the early '90's. They lived in a large round birdcage on the back porch. We obtained an even larger rectangular cage so they could be outside during the summer. Around it we built another cage out of wooden lattice for further security. Sad to say, it didn't keep something (a cat most likely) from breaking in and getting one of my birds one night.
I don't know where my love of doves came from, or when. I dreamed of having a large dovecote with dozens of doves - similar to one I saw in western Ireland. I remember a movie scene from the 60's where doves were shown flying in the glow of the setting sun. It was a very romantic part of the movie. (If I could only remember the title!) Maybe that's where my wish for a dovecote came from. And then there was Jimmy Smits in NYPD Blue going up to the rooftop to care for and talk to his pigeons when he needed to clear his head.
Even as a child, as my Mom taught me the songs of the different birds, I loved hearing the mourning doves. I still remember when she pointed out one of their scantily built nests wondering how the baby birds kept from tumbling out.
After losing one dove to a predator, I quit using the outside cage. I never knew the sex of my dove, but I named her Aileen - Scots for 'The Light of the Sun'. Not only did she coo, she also laughed and even had a sound like a turkey gobbling. When they were little, the grandchildren were entranced. They would hear Aileen chuckling on the back porch and want to go see her.
Our lone dove made the move with us to the farm in '95. Once again, I would put her in the outside cage as long as I was outside working. One Sunday afternoon when I was only going to be gone an hour or so to the Mother's Day Tea at the church, I left Aileen outside in the cage.
When I got home, Bud met me at the end of the walkway with the bad news: "One of your Mom's cats killed your bird. I've already buried her so you didn't have to see it."
"I had a dove and the sweet dove died."
You ARE a writer!
ReplyDeleteBut your blog picture makes me sort of sad. Sort of a forboding air. Maybe one of these days the sun will shine again.