Our intrepid band of birders was met with freezing fog at 8AM as we gathered at the Ashland Dog Park.  We soldiered on.  Good views of Red-shouldered Hawk near the Sue Smith bridge over Bear Creek.  A pair of curious Wrentits checked us out when we walked through the willow grove near the bridge.  Wrentits were calling in the frozen air while most birds were silent, even the Scrub-Jays.

Western Bluebirds were into the mistletoe at the oak grove downstream from the bridge.

At Ashland Pond we could not find the Eurasian Wigeon that had been present for over a week.  But two female Lesser Scaup had joined the duck crowd.  The female Hooded Merganser today was on Bear Creek, not Ashland Pond.  A Sharpie was lurking near the pond and thus we saw few small birds of any kind.  The one Lincoln’s Sparrow was just along the waterline on the north side of the pond near the out-flow culvert.   The only Waxwings were a group fly-over.

Mourning Dove, behind the fence at the Ashland sewer plant.  They love that spot in the winter.

Black Phoebe atop sewer plant building.

White-breasted Nuthatch honked at us from the top of a Ponderosa next to Ashland Pond.  By this time (after 10AM) the fog had burned off and our fingers were less numb.

Location:     Bear Creek Greenway–Ashland
Observation date:     11/15/09
Notes:     Saw one pair of Wrentits.
Number of species:     26

Canada Goose     11
Wood Duck     8
Hooded Merganser     1
Red-shouldered Hawk     1
Red-tailed Hawk     4
Mourning Dove     9
Acorn Woodpecker     1
Northern Flicker (Red-shafted)     1,   Kingfisher   1
Black Phoebe     1
Western Scrub-Jay     2
Black-capped Chickadee     2
Ruby-crowned Kinglet     5
Western Bluebird     6
American Robin     10
Wrentit     4
European Starling     15
Spotted Towhee     4
Song Sparrow     1
Golden-crowned Sparrow     8
Dark-eyed Junco (Oregon)     6
Red-winged Blackbird     15
Brewer’s Blackbird     20
House Finch     2
American Goldfinch     3,  Lesser Goldfinch 15

Location:     Ashland Pond
Observation date:     11/15/09
Notes:     First Scaup I’ve seen on Ashland Pond this autumn. Eurasian Wigeon not seen today.
Number of species:     17

Canada Goose     31
Wood Duck     2
American Wigeon     60
Mallard     15
Lesser Scaup     2
Sharp-shinned Hawk     1
Belted Kingfisher     1
Acorn Woodpecker     1
Northern Flicker (Red-shafted)     1
Western Scrub-Jay     4
White-breasted Nuthatch     1
American Robin     2
Cedar Waxwing     14
Spotted Towhee     2
Lincoln’s Sparrow     1
Golden-crowned Sparrow     8
Dark-eyed Junco (Oregon)     4

Small Note:

Let me tell you, birds cause problems for homeowners too! My cloth dryer burned a thermal sensor just because  the dryer’s vent was blocked and the vapor heat was backing up. I saw that the vent’s door was missing on the outside of the house. I didn’t have a tall ladder so I decided to use a blower instead to unblock it. It worked! Inside the duct was a thick nest made out of pine needles and leaves, it was vacant, there were no birds in it except  some old chards of egg shells, bluish in color.

Other that this I have some more images from my bird’s archive. I hope you like them!

Here are some more shots taken from my backyard.

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Mourning Dove, sp. name: “Zenaida Macroura”

Description:

Plump body and long tailed, with short legs, small bill and a head that looks particularly small in comparison to the body.

Mourning Doves are are a delicate brown to buffy-tan overall, with black spots on wings and black bordered white tips to the tail feathers.

Their habitat: They live nearly averywhere except deep woods, they are ground feeders and always form pairs or groups, never feed alone.

Mourning Dove

Mourning Dove

 I don’t know about you, but I am not ready for winter just yet!

The day started out with blanket of snow several inches deep, and this image was captured this afternoon, after the sun came out and the melt had begun in earnest. Yes, I know it’s only October 10^th, but evidently the powers that be thought it wise to remind us who is in control of the weather! This poor mourning dove looked so cold and forlorn, as though we had pulled a fast one on her. That same look of chilly disbelief was on everyone’s face today. I love the change of seasons, but can’t the snow wait awhile??

Images from all seasons may be viewed or purchased from:

www.michaelcartaimages.com

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I haven’t seen the mourning dove lately.  I’ll admit, I’ve been missing it.

I was afraid that maybe by taking a photo of it, it would no longer come around, but it has since then.  I guess part of me also wanted to just make sure that it did appear in photo– to prove that I wasn’t just imagining it.  And yep, it’s there

Here are some pics.

Mourning Dove, September 19, 2009

Mouring Dove, September 19, 2009

Mourning Dove, September 19, 2009

Mourning Dove, September 19, 2009

Today, John and I would have shared four years of happily married life together.  I’m still going to consider it to be my anniversary… we didn’t choose to end our marriage.

At midnight my friend, Shannon, and we talked for hours.  Remembering happy memories, and talking about life without John.  Finally at about 3:30 AM, after my third wind had depleted, I went to bed.

As I laid in the darkness listening to the rain, I shed some tears.  The rain seemed so appropriate.  As if tears from John were raining down from Heaven since he wished he could be there laying in bed next to me.  I miss John so much.  I still feel like his presence is around and Nathaniel will always be a reminder of John to me.  But, I do miss his physical self and there still is and will always be a hole in my heart.  John was the love of my life will always be.

This AM when I awoke it was overcast.  I hurried to feed the horses since Nathaniel was already stirring.  I looked to the roof of the run in shed and there was the solitary mourning dove.  I had seen it yesterday also, but hadn’t seen it for a week or so before that.  It stayed the whole time that I fed.  It was very comforting…. I looked towards the Heavens and told John that I loved him & Happy Anniversary.

Yes, I do think that John is still with me.

I don’t know if they have computers in Heaven, but “Happy Anniversary, John!  I will forever love you.  Love ALWAYS.”

Warning.  These next two pictures are gross.  I noticed this weird looking Dove from a distance today and I was hoping to get a picture of it.

Unfortunately, I did get some pictures, but they are not that good, and what they do show is gross.  I think this Dove is infected with Trichomoniasis.

After doing some additional research.  It the above disease is what this Dove has, it is highly contagious.  It says the bird will continue to try to feed and drink even though it may be starving or dying of thirst (reference here).

Now I’m feeling kind of bad.  Hopefully I didn’t create a situation where this disease develops.  It says to clean the food and water stations daily (I didn’t do it every day).

Last but not least, this bird looks so miserable, how do I put it out of its misery and also protect the other birds?  I’m not good at euthanasia.  I can’t imagine trying to catch him with a net or anything.  I do have a pellet gun (which I never use).  Maybe I’ll see if Leecy can try and shoot it.  For those wondering why I would ask Leecy to try and shoot the bird to put it out of its misery, I’ll share one example of why.

We put down a glue mouse trap one time.  It worked.  The mouse was stuck in the glue.  Being the freak that I am, I was asking how we could save it and even tried to gently pry it off the glue (that made it worse).  In the end, Leecy was able to end it’s suffering, no thanks to me.

Trichomoniasis In Dove

Trichomoniasis In Dove 2

We had a delicate visitor this morning, a gorgeous fall morning in Norfolk County. So much for Indian Summer.

We were able to examine this little guy quite closely, from the safety of behind our front storm door.  I’m sad to report, that the underside of this critter looks remarkably the same as the top-side. But he had an interesting set of little pincers at the bottom, and quite lengthy antennae sprouting from the top of his….head portion. (Trying to use scientific descriptors here)

I took 10 or 12 shots of this guy but alas, my little Olympian camera could only get about this close before losing focus. Even on the portrait setting, which worked quite nicely for the toadstool photos I took in the undergrowth surrounding my Mom and sister’s cottage up north. And I had a tripod, that’s right too. That likely would have helped the auto-focus feature as I was so excited and therefore tremulous.

Goodness, you’d think no wildlife ever shows itself here in the so-called ‘burbs of Simcoe, Ontario! Actually a fair bit of wildlife saga takes place just off the front porch.  This spring and into July, I guess there were too many birds residing in the one and only tree we own, located to the side of our front lawn. It’s an overgrown crabapple type of thing, but it housed about 4 nests in there, and is about 6 steps off the front porch.  Early on the girls found a baby robin (or robin-type bird) in the grass directly below a nest. They pestered me to put it back up there. I thought, it’s possibly a mourning dove baby, either or. As I was dragging the 6-footer out of the carport they also informed me that Dusty, our indoor/outdoor cat, had previously been mauling it. I almost reconsidered replacing the baby bird right then. I pleaded my case with them that Dusty has a habit of crunching down on the bodies of little critters that he catches, as the week before they had “rescued” a baby chippy from his jaws in the back yard. I knew that one had been internally crushed as it was listing helplessly in a small circle while blood dripped from it’s head and stuff. I had refused to foster it in the house and the girls ended up enlisting the sympathetic help of our young neighbour’s parents, and the mom had bundled it up and whisked it off to her house. In the end it didn’t matter how cute that baby chippy was, he didn’t make it.

I reminded the girls of all of this, and stated that under no circumstances were they to bring this baby bird into the house. In the end I agreed to restore it to it’s nest and let it’s mother, should she choose to return, nurse it back to health. About 20 minutes later the bloody thing had fallen back into the grass and of course Dusty had pounced on it again. Suffice to say, once again, all cuteness aside, he didn’t make it.

In July we had a real spectacular show of wildlife saga, also in the front yard under our tree, called Survival of the Fittest, followed by another one of Life’s Lessons.  They are hard to take, but it all boiled down to the fact that I had no choice but to explain it that way. The girls alerted me to the fact that another baby bird was in the grass under the tree and was being harassed by a Blue Jay while being stalked by Dusty. I guess he thought he’d have himself a two-fer, I don’t know.

This Jay was going after this large baby bird, which I pretty much started to think resembled a mourning dove. He was hopping about in the grass, trying to agressively trap the baby dove against the stone edging to move in for the kill. The Jay was harping so loud at the baby, and the baby was squawking and hissing (yes, hissing!!!) with both wings raised in self-protection. The girls were too rattled to approach, but they very much wanted to scare the Jay away. Well, that Jay wasn’t budging. He wasn’t scared of us in the least. When I waved my hand at him to shoo him away, he actually snapped at my fingers.

I herded the girls up onto the safety of the front porch and joined them there. As soon as we were clear an adult dove swooped in from somewhere above, landed between the baby and the Jay, and completely covered the baby with one wing. She was relatively quiet compared to the Jay which continued its racket, and started pecking and flying at her. I thought, oh geez, now the both the mother and baby are going to die right in front of my daughters. I had already sized up the length of that Jay’s beak compared to the dove’s. Even though there were now two of them, they were no match for the Jay, as the mother could not protect both herself and the baby since the baby had very few pin feathers developed yet and wobbled back and forth unsteadily.

Just as this seemingly horrific wildlife situation was about to conclude, as luck would have it Dusty chose that moment to pounce. Both adult birds were startled and took off in opposite directions while the cat engulfed the baby in his mouth and trotted off to the branch pile in the ditch beside the carport. Both my girls screamed and gave chase, but by the time they pried his jaws open and released the bird, too much damage had been done. Although it had passed out from lack of oxygen and its rib-case was crushed out both sides of its body, it likely had died from a heart attack the moment the big orange tabby jumped on him.

Nevertheless, my daughters being the way they are, insisted the baby would revive, and as Jeff (the love of my life) was arriving home from work in his truck they begged him to replace it in it’s nest in the tree. God love him, I don’t know why he did it, but he wrapped the thing in a piece of white rag and gingerly climbed my 6-foot ladder and dumped the carcass into a nest.  Peace at last!! LOL

Lastly, we had to stand on the porch watching the nest for any signs of life. The mourning dove never returned. My daughters had no end of questions regarding this event, and I had to explain to them that sometimes there are just too many mourning doves in the bird neighbourhood, or maybe too many Jays, and this is just Nature’s Way. What’s Nature’s Way mommy? It’s called “survival of the fittest”. Whoever is the strongest and fastest and healthiest will survive….and then there’s Dusty, how does he fit into this? I think it’s called, the Element of Surprise. Oh.

But our little Walking Stick held no interest for Dusty the killer of baby birds and chippy’s. My son pressed a piece of white paper to the back of the window so I could try and photograph it. He remained in that position while my kids filed out the door, forced to leave for school, and as he was passing by the Walking Stick seemed to raise one upper leg and give a short wave to my son. It was cute. And oh, so very alive.

I tell people often of the importance I put on background. No, not my background, the background of the subject in my images. In photography, as is true in other 2-D art forms, the entire piece has to be purposeful and effective. When I want the viewer to concentrate on a foreground subject or element, I work to make sure the background will not distract. Better yet, the background should enhance the feeling of the image by either adding clear information or context about the subject, or allude to it more subtly.

In the image below of a mourning dove, the background is distant trees and other brush. It conveys a sense of place without needing texture or detail. It also gives a feeling for season (clearly not winter or fall at least). I choice to compose for color in this background as neither the dove nor the snag that it is perched on have much. A long focal length of 700mm (Canon 500mm f4. plus Canon TC 1.4) gave me a shallow depth of field, especially working wide open at f5.6. This background has a painterly feeling that I like.

Mourning Dove on Snag, Bucks County, PA

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In the very southwest corner of Kansas lies the Cimarron National Grassland. This area, along with the nearby town of Elkhart,  is a favorite birding destination for Kansas birders. Several western species reach the eastern edge of their ranges here, and lost eastern migrants are attracted to the patches of trees in a sea of sand-sage prairie and cropland.

Cottonwoods along the usually dry Cimarron River provide a wooded migration corridor from eastern Colorado through southwestern Kansas.

Middle Springs is one of several oases on the grassland that provide trees and water to migrants like this Clay-colored Sparrow.

female Blue Grosbeak

male Blue Grosbeak

The fastest land animal in North America, Pronghorn evolved to outrun American Cheetahs, which became extinct somewhere between 10,000 and 20,000 years ago.

The white backsides of Pronghorn are visible from great distances.

Mourning Doves were by far the most common species seen on this day, with Eurasian Collared-Doves coming in a close second.

This Barn Owl was in a little cavern in a bluff overlooking the Cimarron River corridor. Note the little bones and other debris in front of the entrance.

This is the bluff where the Barn Owl had her cavity.

Curve-billed Thrasher

Northern Mockingbird

Gaillardia pulchella

As one would expect in the Sunflower State, these were everywhere.

The abundant Prickly Pear cactus makes walking a challenge in many areas.

The Elkhart sewage ponds are the only permanent bodies of water for many miles around, so they attract good numbers of migrant shorebirds and waterfowl. These American Avocets were swimming in the middle of one of the pools.

Spotted Sandpipers

Semipalmated Sandpiper

Burrowing Owls are one of many species that rely on prairie dog towns for shelter or food. I found several Black-tailed Prairie Dog towns on this day, each containing an owl or two, but the dogs kept out of camera range.

My buddy Steve tells me often, “peaks & valleys,” “gutters & strikes.”  In the course of a day there can be so many emotional moments- part of the day is wonderful… part, not so much. 

Today, was one of those days.  I got up early to feed the horses, so that I could go to “Beach Church” with the McCloud family.  I started going to “Beach Church” or “Boat Church” the day after John’s funeral.  Before that, I can’t even remember the last time I went to church.  I just feel like my soul has a lot of healing to do and maybe church can help.  The McClouds are truly wonderful people and “beach church” is pretty informal, so it’s a good way to get my foot wet, so to speak. 

I got out the door to feed at 6AM.  As soon as I opened the door the first sound I heard was a mourning dove.  A misty fog covered the back field and began to lift.  The horses were glad to see me.  The hay had a sweet smell.  Things were off to a good start.

The McClouds showed up & we left for “beach church.”  Nathaniel was his usual charmer and behaved pretty well… or as well as a “yearling” can behave.  During the sermon the pastor talked about a conversation that he had had with some friends about if you had a tattoo what would it say and where would you put it.  Of course that got me thinking.  I know I’d never have a tattoo because I’m not that type, but I knew where I would put it & more or less what it would say or be a picture of.  The location would be over my heart & it would have something to do with John… probably something along the lines of “Forever in my heart” or “Love Always.”  It was all I could do to not start crying, but I held it together.  Of course, it’s not to difficult to get re-focused when you child is pointing out birds or getting wiggly.  During church, a Bald Eagle flew over the water several times.  After I noticed a blue heron standing silently.  “Beach church” is just a neat experience.  I enjoy the songs, Nathaniel likes the guitar & has fun. 

Afterwards, Pastor Mark came over and again expressed his condolences & offered to listen anytime I want to talk.  I think I might take him up on the offer.

Then we went to breakfast with the McClouds at Buck’s.  It was DELICIOUS!!!  The waffles were delicious & I enjoyed more creamed chipped beef than I probably should have eaten.  But it was good & it was a buffet, so you’re supposed to make sure you get your money’s worth, right?  Of course my physique shows that I’ve gotten my money’s worth at quite a few buffets over the years… oh well…

My heart also goes out to an online friend who lost her husband yesterday after a three month illness.  I was saddened to see her post this AM.  My heart hurts for her… only those of us who have lost a spouse that you truly love can understand the feelings and emotions that go along with it.  She is a very relious person and I know that her religion will help her through her tough times. 

I went home & put Nathaniel down for a nap & I took a nap as well.  I had friends who were supposed to come over in the afternoon, so I figured I’d take a nice nap first.  Then I got a phone call saying they wouldn’t be able to make it.  I got a little down.  I’d been looking forward to seeing them & I felt lonely.

I got on facebook for a little while.  Got myself cheered back up after a nice chat with another friend. 

I had an urge to go on a walk, but my footsies were still pretty sore from my long walk yesterday (at least 4 miles, probably closer to 5 at the Conowingo Dam).   With the Philly LiveStrong Challenge coming up, I didn’t want to risk blistering my feet, since they’d been pretty close yesterday.  I think I wanted to walk to see if I could find myself or just escape & enjoy the sights…. two different things… doesn’t really make sense, but then a lot of things don’t make sense lately.  I guess it would have depended where I went walking as to which emotion I felt.   

Anyway, I opted to take kiddo outside.  It was HOT & almost 6 pm.  But, we found a shady spot in the backyard.  Nathaniel happily plucked grass.  Rascal & Punkin came & joined us.  The mares kept us entertained.  In the distance we could hear cows from down the road & mourning doves.  Nathaniel enjoyed bird watching.  We even got a rare treat when a kestrel flew & landed on the electric fence, not too far from us.  It only stayed for a few brief seconds.  I love the kestrels, but boy they are hard to spot & don’t stick around very long!  In the years that we’ve had the property I probably haven’t seen kestrels more than a dozen or so times. 

As darkness began to came, I thought I’d better get Nathaniel inside before the mosquitos came out.  I fed him & put him to bed.  I fed the horses. 

Now, here I am, in the dark… feeling a little lonely and missing John.  Nights are always the hardest… after Nathaniel is in bed… after things have quieted down. 

Honestly, I’m hoping to go back to night shift when I return to work.  I want to see familiar faces and go back to a job that I know… and I don’t want to lay alone in the dark missing John & crying.  Very few people seem to understand that.  Of course, right now I have a bigger issue– finding care for my child.  The arrangements fell through and now I’m back to square one.  One more thing to have to worry about on an already full plate.  I’ll figure something out…  don’t know how… but I will…

Another new image of something I’ve never been able to get a picture of.  It’s a Eurasian Collared Dove.  It’s somewhat of a rare Dove for Houston, and it’s non-native.

Here’s the Eurasian Collared Dove.  It’s quite a bit larger than the Mourning Dove and it also has that ring around its neck.

Eurasian Collared Dove

Here’s a Mourning Dove for comparison.

Mourning Dove Waiting To Feed

I wanted to share what happened a few days ago.  Lately, I’ve had some bad luck with my timing of getting the horses fed before storms.  I knew this one was going to be close since the wind had already picked up before I started feeding.  I opted to put Nathaniel in the stroller rather than the backpack.  He prefers the backpack because he’s constantly moving and always gets to go with me.  He doesn’t like being parked in the stroller; he’s an on the go type of guy.  I selected the stroller because I could quickly get him out of the weather if my timing was off.

So, as I’m feeding as quickly as I can the wind picks up.  There isn’t any thunder or lightening.  I know… if you can see it… the storm is to close.  I happen to look at the run in shed roof & there is the mourning dove.  At first it stands on the roof… tall, solid, & strong.

As the storm approaches the wind really starts to pick up.  I look to see if the dove is still there.  Sure enough it is!  It did however hunker down to minimize the wind effects.  I feel a sense of peace with the dove there.

Finally, big drops of rain begin to fall as I’m almost finished.  I push Nathaniel into the garage.  I was ALMOST finished & still no lightening or thunder… just rain.  I glance to the run in shed roof & the dove is gone.  I hurry and wrap up… the rain pours down on me, but yet it feels good at the same time- cool water after all of the heat & humidity. 

I don’t know… was the mourning dove looking out for us?  Certainly seemed like it to me.

You may be curious about the blog title- Rainbows & Mourning Doves. 

Let me take a step back.  John was a career firefighter with Annapolis Fire Department and a volunteer with Community Fire Company of Rising Sun.  He was a firefighter since way before I met John and I was so proud when he got hired at Annapolis.  He finally had his dream job. 

John was more than just a firefighter.  John was extremely active in the fire company & rose to the rank of Captain.  Often John had bigger accomplishements behind the seens in the innerworkings of the fire company.  He was awarded national grants to purchase equipment.  He was on multiple comittees for purchasing equipment… and much more…

Going back to purchasing equipment… John was on the committe to purchase the Ladder Truck… the truck was John’s baby.  It had been said by several people that “the Truck was “John’s Truck” he just let everybody else  use it.”

John had a firefighter’s funeral.  On the day of his viewing, a huge thunderstorm came through.  It even hailed.  My friend, Charlie, came thru and pulled me out of line to go outside.  Overtop of “John’s Ladder Truck” was a huge rainbow.  I think that was John’s way of telling me that everything was okay.  Apparently when the rainbow started it was a double rainbow!  Rainbows will never mean the same thing to me again. 

The rainbow helped a lot, but I still miss John terribly.

Now for the Mourning Doves. 

We live on a small farm that to me is my little slice of Heaven.  John never was a horse person, but he wanted me to be happy.  It was his idea to look for property large enough so I could have my dream of having my horses at home.  I was skeptical that we could afford it.  On a bike ride, John found the sign for the property and we scheduled an appointment.  Long story short, we purchased the property , became “official dirt owners” (as we liked to say), and saved our pennies and were finally able to build in 2004.  John picked the house… it was his dream house.  We were so proud to watch the house being built.  I love that I can look out the window & see my horses.  I love the deer.  I love the many birds that live there.  I love all of the peace & beauty of nature that I can see and feel around me.  I love the rare sighting of a kestrel or of a heron taking off from the distant pond.  I love the creek and the woods.  The skies over Leaky Creek are filled with beautiful clouds and lovely sunrises & sunsets.  I feel at peace on our farm.  It’s the place that John & I picked together for our dream and we were going to live there and grow old together. 

Nathaniel loves watching the birds, too.  One of his first words was “bird!”  He does an elaborate gesture & point & shows you where the bird is while loudly proclaiming “bird!” 

Three mourning doves lived in the area, but I don’t think that any specifically lived on our property.  After John’s passing, I frequently see the single mourning dove.  It often sits on the house or the run in shed while I’m out feeding.  Often the first sound I hear in the mourning is the mourning dove’s coo.   Once when somebody stopped to visit the dove flew away… as if it is just to be seen by Nathaniel & myself. 

John was somebody who was pretty much black & white… not a lot of grey areas with him.  In some ways, I think very few people REALLY knew John.  But, if you were part of that inner circle then you knew exactly how he felt about people and things.  He had very high standards for the people around him, and he had those same high standards for himself.    You knew how he felt & if you asked for an opinion, he’d give you his opinion even if he knew you wouldn’t like it. 

So… a mourning dove makes perfect sense… Nathaniel loves watching birds.  John loved Nathaniel with all his heart.  Wikipedia describes mouning doves not in several ways- their sad coo that gives them their name; “The Mourning Dove is monogamous and forms strong pair bonds”, “Mourning Doves are devoted parents; nests are very rarely left unattended by the adults.^“ 

^{John & I were absolutely devoted to each other.  On trips away from their wives or girlfiends, not many men would pass up the opportunity to visit a strip club and to instead return to their hotel room & call their loved one.  John did.  He also told me that the real reason for summer trips downtown weren’t for ice cream or gelatos, but  rather that certain people liked to watch the girls in their skimpy outfits.  lol…  Heck, when asked who I thought was the sexiest actor, I’d quip, why do I need to look at other men, I have all that I want here.  John on the other hand found Helen Hunt & Sandra (Sandy) Bullock to be pretty hot.  Although, Sandy lost some points for marrying Jessee James.  Neither of us could quite see that attraction}  

^{John was the best father that a child could ask for and a wife could want.  In many respects, I think John was a better father than I am a mother.  From the beginning, John could pinpoint what Nathaniel needed and he was such a caring & loving father.  I could get frustrated.  Not, John, strong and steady… that was the way John always was.} 

^{John was a strong believer that the best person to raise a child is his/her parents.  We fought so hard to keep Nathaniel out of childcare.  My work was very generous and allowed us to work opposite schedules for 2008.  When 2009 came along, I used vacation days to stretch the time that we could care for Nathaniel ourselves.  We had a way figured to make it work thru May, sadly, John’s melanoma turned stage IV in February.} 

^{So, the mourning dove makes perfect sense…}

^{& now you see why the blog is titled…”Rainbows & Mourning Doves”}

Over the last month and a half I’ve had the pleasure of hosting two stand-out examples of responsible parenting. These role models, however, happen to be doves.

At first I was skeptical why a pair of birds would want to build a nest on my front porch, given that we go in and out fairly frequently. To be fair, the rose vines framing the entryway are thick and strong as well as stylish, and few bad guys (except us) would even think of going up in there. They spent a couple of days scoping out the place – I like to think that they were comparison shopping – but in the end, convenience, location, and that je ne sais quoi won out. A few sticks and pieces of dried grass started showing up, and eventually there was a nest.

After a couple weeks I saw a scraggly little chick, but then we went on vacation and it was gone when we came back. I thought maybe I’d imagined it, but the doves were still there, and a couple weeks later there were definitely two chicks. Apparently, doves can have multiple broods in a single mating season, and usually use the same nest. They may even use the same nesting site year after year. So now I knew I was looking at the second brood.

Since I was actually home this time, I watched these guys grow from little pin-feathered ugly ducklings into… well, still kind of ugly but at least full feathered young doves (they had gangly awkward tweenager written all over them). The parents still took turns on the nest but switched more frequently, now that they had two hungry mouths to feed. To eat, the chicks basically stick their beaks inside the parent’s and gobble up whatever pre-processed yumness is there. Though interesting, it’s really not that pleasant to watch.

The nest soon got a bit crowded as the chicks were almost as big as the adults and would flap their wings haphazardly from time to time. I could sense the parent doves getting a little frustrated and sometimes the male would perch on the branch outside the nest to get some fresh air. The more adventurous chick joined him once (I think he also got most of the food; he was the bigger one). I noticed yesterday that the parents would sometimes both leave the nest, and the chicks would get restless and hop about in the vines.

This morning, I opened the door to find the nest empty. I guess it was time! Maybe the parents will come back and have another brood. If not, maybe next year.

Photos (from left to right and top to bottom):
1. The female parent, I think. It was slimmer and smaller than the other one.
2. The male parent, I think. Bigger and slightly more colorful.
3. The male on the nest, with one chick visible.
4. The male again, with both chicks getting a little too big for the nest.
5. The big chick sitting with Dad on the branch. The other chick is behind them to the right.
6. Both chicks out of the nest, wondering where Mom and Dad are.

The common upland birds that are hunted are:

• Pheasant
• Hungarian Partridge
• Chukar
• Sharp-Tail
• Ruffed Grouse
• Spruce Grouse
• Sage Grouse
• Bobwhite Quail
• California Quail
• Mountain Quail
• Mourning Dove
• Scaled Quail
• Woodcock

It took only a moment to decide.

As happens every day, as she sang to me, her arm reached past my perch through the open door, to pour fresh water in my bowl.   Just beyond her, overhead, were clusters of glistening red cherries bouncing in invitation in the morning breeze.  So I heeded, flapping clumsily over her arm as she spilled the water, her mouth an “O”.

I escaped my house, my first time flying free, awkward and careening.  I made it to a high branch and grabbed hold tightly, staring down at her asking me to come back.   Instead I listened to the cherries next to me, their sweet song of red juice pouring over the sides of my beak.

When the breeze picked up in the darkening hours, I missed the comfort of my indoor loft nest lined with cedar shavings and horse hair, with snug walls where I have spent many wintry nights, and soft summer twilights.   My mournful evening anthem was hushed by the wing swoop overhead of a clicking owl, anxious for dinner.  I tucked my head in fear, with no wire enclosure to protect me. I fell silent, barely sleeping.

At dawn, she found me picking at cat food near the back porch, with an ancient feline crouched a few feet away, tail twitching, ready for instant breakfast.  I fluttered off, returning to relative safety of the orchard treetops, alert for hawks.   For two days I explored the trees surrounding my little home, its door still open as a standing invitation.  She filled my water bowl and brought my seeds just as she always did, singing.  I listened carefully to the familiar tune, twisting my neck one way and then another to hear her better.  The cherry song no longer seemed as sweet.

The next morning, she found me in my little nest inside my dove house, the door still wide open.  She filled my bowl with fresh water and brought me new seeds, closed the door, latching it tight.

Today, joyful at dawn, I woke her with my mourning song.

It's lovely walking in the forest.

In these tough  times, at first blush selling off parkland

might seem like a good solution for a municipality trying to make ends meet. But it can’t be good business for the municipality to promote hiking trails on the one hand while bulldozing parkland with the other.

Victoria Glen Park is right next to the Kissing Bridge trail, so you’d think its continued existence would be important to the health of the  community for tourism if nothing else.  We don’t live next door to Victoria Glen Park, but that doesn’t make it any less important to my family.  It’s part of our natural environment.

There are trees and wildlife in abundance.

A family of ducks travel down the creek that runs through it.

Just last weekend we dropped by for a stroll.

The weather started turning and we had to beat a hasty retreat, but in the half hour or so we were there we saw a thriving family of ducks on the river, as well as other birds in the trees and the skies above.

Ahead of us  on the trail a huge raccoon scootched up a really big tree.   I left the path in an attempt to get close enough to the tree to get a good photograph, but in trying to work my way through the undergrowth, I  completely lost track of his tree!

This is a real forest.

And for sure it’s taken a long time to get this way.

Victoria Glen Park provides a valuable refuge  for birds, raccoons and  other animals whose natural habitat is displaced  due to  development.

I was always so impressed at how neat the Victoria Glen forest is. Even though there aren’t any parks department garbage cans, I’ve seen next to no litter there.

As it turns out the local residents are so invested in this little piece of heaven that they trim the pathways and pick-up the litter. Talk about low maintenance for the municipality, right?

Except the town is looking at selling this little gem of a park to make way for even more housing.

Oops, I forgot… it is NOT  parkland.

The township of Woolwich purchased this seven acre woodlot to be used as parkland for something like two hundred dollars close to a century ago.

Shortly  after World War II the municipality rezoned it as residential because returning veterans faced a housing shortage.  At that time it was thought to be  better to situate housing on park land than  on valuable farmland.

But you know they managed to preserve Victoria Glen Park for future generations.

(That’s us.)

But now the municipality  thinks  that they might get a million or more if they sell off part of the forest for housing.

The  current crop of politicians is looking at Victoria Glen Park as though they’re selling off residential land, not park land even though…

Victoria Glen Park has only ever been used as park land.

Ironically, the town is growing faster than ever before.

With the former fair grounds and a substantial amount of farmland around town being developed into residential subdivisions,

A bird soars over Victoria Glen Park. If even part of this habitat is destroyed, there is no best case scenario. The ecosystem will be seriously damaged.

every inch of park land in Woolwich Township will be even more precious.

For more information:
Preserve Victoria Glen Park

Pete and Cami, my two diamond doves, woke me up this morning chattering like crazy.  Diamond doves are normally very calm, chilled out little birds.  They don’t really play with toys and they don’t really chatter the way finches do.  They just relax.

Diamond doves are TINY.  I have the world’s smallest hands, and one barely fills up my palm.  When my husband has to catch one after it escapes (normally Cami – Pete is a wuss) his two cupped hands give the bird more than enough room to move around.

They were excited this morning.  I went over to open the curtain to the window their cage is in front of, and they started spinning in circles on their perches, cooing at the top of their teeny tiny lungs.  I looked out the window and the full sized mourning dove who lives in the tree out front was sitting there waiting.  Apparently, this is a very special appearance and my two little innocent doves turned into squawking teenagers going nuts over a heart throb.

He stayed for a bit and they talked.  Well, he would coo like a big dove and they would flip shit.  Then the two chipping sparrows came to visit.  They pranced and pecked for a bit before they were joined by a grosbeak, a couple of red finches, and a grackle.  The grackle and the dove are the largest birds the two little ones will tolerate.  They attack the window whenever a robin or cardinal shows up so we see mostly finches and the little sparrows.

Here are some of our regulars.  Shaun gets the good pictures because I’d need a stool to shoot pics out of the window without a screen.