So for a week or more now, I’ve had this mother dove nesting in the Carolina jasmine that is growing on the fence that runs alongside my driveway and just outside my kitchen window. And I have to admit here, I’ve become involved with this dove. I wonder if the dove is okay, I wonder if the dove is hungry, I wonder if the dove recognizes me, I wonder if the dove likes me. I am obsessed with the dove.
Multiple times a day, I run outside and check on the dove. And multiple times a day I find the dove sitting on her nest staring straight ahead pretending that I do not exist.
Early yesterday morning, we got a terrific thunder and lightning storm with some heavy rain and high winds. It woke me up around 5am and my first thought was not “Is my child frightened? Does he need his mommy?” but “I wonder if the dove is okay.”
So an hour later, after the storm passed, I went outside in my threadbare hot pink chenille robe and fuzzy leopard print slippers to check on the dove. I realize as I leave the house that I look a little like Crabby Maxine and for a split second I consider putting on something less likely to frighten or offend the dove. Doves probably have very delicate sensibilities when it comes to garish fashion and other startling things.
I stand on my tip toes to see her and yes, she was still there, sitting on her nest and staring straight ahead as usual. I coo to her in a low and soothing dove-like voice. I tell her how I worried over her. I asked her if the storm had frightened her. I inquire of her health and tell her she is a pretty dove and that I am a kind person. I continue our conversation along those lines and at one point she blinked which I took to mean that we were bonding.
When I turned to go back in the house, I offered a feeble wave to the speed walker at the end of the driveway who had slowed down enough to catch me talking tenderly to the Carolina jasmine.