Mourning Doves

Their arrival came without fanfare or demand for attention. Tuesday morning, finishing my morning meditations and prayers, two Mourning Doves sharing the ledge just outside my office window captured my eye. There is something contenting about the two, so I allow my attention to move in their direction. Initially I plan to only watch for a moment but so captivated by their presence am I, a little research has me wondering.

The Mourning Dove is the most plentiful game bird in all of North America. Typically nesting in trees or bushes, they will produce two eggs per clutch. In a given year, a breeding pair can produce as many as 6 clutches of offspring. That's 12 kiddos roughly the same age when college rolls around. Now we know that's expensive!

Tuesday must be an exciting day for the pair. No doubt they've been searching and it appears as though they have finally found their spot. It seems a reasonable choice for some who would just as soon not wind up on a sportsman's dinner plate. I find it a wise choice situated on the third floor window ledge of an impressively large church campus. There is a wonderful view of downtown Dallas to the West and the plain leading toward Plano to the east. The skyline can be quite spectacular from here on a clear day.

Not much nesting activity occurs today, but who can blame them? She walks from one side of the ledge to the other, settling down facing one direction and then turning and settling down to face the other. It occurs to me she's probably thinking, "Do I want the evening sun to my back as I'm feeding the kids or do I want to face it? Hmmm which would be best?" These aren't easy decisions for a mother-to-be, you know. It's tough to decide!

The two do a little bird "kissing," I assume to celebrate the moment. Sensitivity prevails as I'm careful not to look for very long, thinking the two may need their privacy. Later, it seems she's settled on the location and in a while he's off, to retrieve the first building supplies for their new digs.

Typically building their nests of twigs, grass cuttings and pine boughs, he is a reliable provider as delivering the first twig intended to be the footer for the foundation of this, their new home. Curiously, on careful approach to the ledge, he lands in front of his beloved. Still grasping the twig in his beak, he gently places the twig on his lady's back. A nesting behavior of this species, she then steadily reaches back with her beak and begins to place the twig to begin the nest. Construction has begun!

Wednesday morning finds me expecting to see considerable progress but much to my surprise, the two are nowhere to be found. Have they abandoned this location for another? Quickly realizing what may have happened, as you know funding for a first time home buyer can sometimes be so sketchy, I assume they've fallen out of escrow and have simply moved on. No more sooner as I can get back to work, the two hurriedly arrive with a sense of urgency. Ah, the last minute financing has come through after all. Congratulations to the Dove family on your new home!

Construction always has its burdens, and apparently nest building is no exception. He flies off to retrieve another twig, she places it here and then places it there and then moves it back to where she placed it initially. A woman's perrogative, I have come to understand. Suddenly, without explanation, I watch as she pitches the twig to the roofline some 20 feet below my office window. Again, a woman's perrogative to make the nest just as it should be. Upon further examination, I see dozens and dozens of twig, grasses and boughs on the landing below us. "What is she doing?" I think to myself. If this routine continues throughout the day Wednesday, there will be no significant progress. And, such is the case.

What was first intended to be contemplative and meditative for me, is turning into shear frustration and anxiety as Wednesday draws to a close. It is now Thursday morning, and there is no observable progress on our nest. Time and time again I see him deliver the supplies only to have her knock them back off the ledge. Are we dealing with some level of mental illness here? Is there a problem she hasn't shared with us? I say in a voice just low enough that my coworkers can't hear and won't think me to be the bird brain they already suspect I am, "Hey girl, what do you think you're doing? We've got a nest to build here and you're not making matters easy! He's knocking himself out going back and forth and what have we got to show for it?" Finally I'm compelled, if there was just some way I could get out there on that ledge I'd build the nest for the two of them myself! This frustration is killing me!

Just then it strikes me what is the source of my frustration. In an instant, I realize I'm guilty of this very same craziness. I go about building my "nest" -- doing my work -- and so much of the time I find myself inadvertently (and perhaps even intentionally) knocking the twigs off the ledge! Oh, from one vantage point it appears I'm working diligently to be everything I'm supposed to be in God's creation, but am I really getting the job done? Am I positioned appropriately, but just frustrating the Creative intent for which I have been designed?

Curiously, I wonder if the One who watches me as intently as I watch the Dove couple is as frustrated as I'm becoming with my fowl friends? The old saying goes, "birds of a feather flock together." This may indeed be true. Perhaps it is why I'm so draw to this couple pre-parental birds. Perhaps what was intended to be a point of contemplation, meditation and prayer has met its fruition. Mr. and Mrs. Dove have taught me one thing, for sure. I've got to get my act together and quit knocking twigs off the ledge! And so should they. After all, we have a nest to build!