In Mourning, Doves

Sometimes, things just don’t work out. We think we’re going to someplace fun and wonderful and interesting enough to share. But it turns out to be a bust, a total zip, nada. It was the Caribbean festival at Washington Park, which someday, somehow might morph into something bigger than one player on a steel guitar playing to no one, one set of tables, offering Caribbean food I think, somebody selling windows, another selling jewelry from China, and another offering cancer, cures, and much more by repeating mantras. We hope it does become what no doubt its creators envisioned, because a Caribbean festival would be a lot of fun and we certainly have had the weather for it recently.

 Cute is in mourning and won’t even write a blog this week. So it falls to me because I’m nothing if not compulsive and Cute really took some great pictures I wanted to share.

Plus, I knew how excited you’d be to read this.

Honestly, we’re both in mourning because the doves are gone from our balcony.  We miss their cooing. Or warbling. Or whooo-ing.

Last seen in Cute’s bicycle’s basket, largely unattended, the baby just sat there and looked pitiful.

It was really hot on that balcony last week and despite Cute’s musical (?) attempts to encourage it and his placement of a water bowl in the basket with the little birdie, it barely moved. It did get fed -- see the video below for that regurgitation mission. 

The other parent was advising from the rail.

A few days later, we saw no one showing up for responsible parenting. Oh no, it’s a goner we thought and now we’re going to have to clean up a dead bird as well as all of his poop. (The latter was actually just disposed of with the towel that it was sitting on.) We starting hearing dove calls outside our other balcony on the garden side and thought they’d forgotten their offspring. Nature is cruel.

Oh dear.

But wait, thankfully, there’s more. A check later on revealed the baby was on the balcony floor with his parents nearby, one from the railing, the other on the floor, encouraging his progress.

It must’ve worked because that next day, all three were gone. We’re sure they went off to their new lives, a small family taking flight together. That's our assumption as no notes were left behind.

The End.