Well Mamma and Pappa Mourning Dove are now ensconced upon (what appears to my eyes to be a bit of) a haphazard nest in the v. same spot upon the grape arbor where they have nested for the last three years. This is, for me, a v. great blessing, a benediction, a sign of grace -- that the mourning doves keep coming back here and making their home up against the western wall of mine. Mamma, no matter how terrified she may have been of me, wasn't budging from her nest this afternoon, as I slowly walked closer and closer to her spot. I held out yarn scraps and kept telling her, "I'd never hurt you." She's intent upon either laying her eggs or keeping them warm, I can't tell which.
Tomorrow, I am meeting w/ my v. gifted landscape designer and I will have to explain to him that the work in the backyard will either have to go around the mourning doves or wait until their (generally only one baby or) babies are raised. These doves sing to me in the morning. Their sweet grey breasts grace my quince bush and my fig trees and my climbing rose. It's their yard, too.
Anyone know a great fixture to put on an outside wall that will please the doves as much next year as this arbor has pleased them lo these many years?
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."