Playing for Time

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David and Darlene Dove blew into town last week on a wing and a prayer. Short on funds and pressed for time, they were experiencing a housing crisis, and having just discovered that Darlene was pregnant, suitable accommodations were an urgent necessity. After checking out one spot after another with no success, Darlene was exhausted and ready to give up when they saw one more place that held promise. It turned out the available space was small but could be made to work under the circumstances, so they met briefly with the landlord and his wife and moved in, hoping for the best. And not a moment too soon, because by the next morning a small white bundle had made its appearance in the new love nest and a clear routine was in place.

David, whose impending fatherhood induced him to settle for less than ideal living conditions, takes the day shift with the bundle, while Darlene gets out of the house, does the shopping, runs errands, maybe makes new friends as things are tough in unfamiliar surroundings. When Darleen gets home around 5:30, she and David exchange information about the preceding hours, and then she settles in while he takes off for points unknown until morning. Believe me, the landlord’s wife notices these things, but it’s none of her business so she doesn’t say anything. Except privately to David on sunny afternoons when he’s trying to sleep, but he never bats an eye so she’s wasting her breath.

The landlord and wifey aren’t bad sorts and they worry about the young couple and their circumstances. They also suspect there’s not one but two small bundles in the new household and wonder if it will all work out. The apartment they’ve let to the couple is truly a fixer-upper, with room for only natural growth, but it IS fully air-conditioned and solar heated and boasts a spectacular view. The landlords, in all honesty, tried to steer them in a better direction, but they were desperate and determined, so… here we all are, making the best of it.

Their roof leaks like it wasn’t even there, but there’s relative safety next to the bricks, and the planter affords shelter from the wind. They’re very tolerant of our presence… I sit six inches from their makeshift home and neither has tried to peck my eyes out yet.

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Darleen preparing to take the overnight watch

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David’s fat little self trying to sleep while the landlady speaks sweet nothings to him

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What we think the nest contains

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Our new renters are American mourning doves, or rain doves, colloquially known as the turtle dove. It is one of the most abundant and widespread of all North American birds and a popular gamebird. Its ability to sustain its population under such pressure is due to its prolific breeding; in warm areas, one pair may raise up to six broods of two young each in a single year. The wings make an unusual whistling sound upon take-off and landing, a form of sonation. The bird is a strong flier, capable of speeds up to 88 km/h (55 mph).

Mourning doves are light gray and brown and generally muted in color. Males and females are similar in appearance. The species is generally monogamous, with two squabs (young) per brood. Both parents incubate and care for the young. Mourning doves eat almost exclusively seeds, but the young are fed crop milk by their parents.

Wikipedia says: A Huron/Wyandot legend tells of a maiden named Ayu’ra (probably more accurately spelled Iohara, a common Iroquois girl’s name today) who used to care for a mourning dove, who came to love her a great deal. One day, the maiden became sick and died. As her spirit traveled across the land to the entrance to the Underworld, all the doves followed her and tried to gain entrance into the Underworld alongside her. Sky Woman, the deity who guards this door, refused them entry, eventually creating smoke to blind them and take Ayu’ra’s spirit away without their knowledge. The smoke stained their feathers gray and they have been in mourning for the maiden’s loss ever since. The logic behind the story is a play on words—the sound many Native Americans attributed to the bird was “howe howe,” and this is also the sound the Iroquoian peoples used to chant over the dead at funerary events.

The above notwithstanding, it’s believed to be good luck when a mourning dove pair chooses you, so we’re going with that and feeling grateful.