Mourning dove


Watercolor painting of a mourning dove by yours truly.
Inspired from a watercolor print by Dean Crouser.

We had had the company of a family of ‘mourning’ doves (they are called so because of their call that sounds like a lament) for a few weeks. Until we didn’t.

Not sure when they decided to vacate. Maybe they heard us complain about how nasty they had made our patio, even as they sat solemnly on soft cushioned chairs. Or maybe they didn’t like being stared at, photographed. Once or twice, we expressed our annoyance at seeing three birds perched on ledges, railings, chairs and the center table. We tried to shoo them away, gently. But they played dead. Since we didn’t have a place to sit, with creases of irritation on our faces, we went downstairs to the parking lot to get some fresh air. Maybe they saw that. Not sure when they decided to vacate. But our ‘mourning doves’ have flown away. What remains is an empty nest, and some stray straws on the floor. While we can still hear their faint calls from far away, can they see us mourn?

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