Doves in the Flowerpot
I first noticed this pair on a sunny Sunday morning in early May as I moved abroad to read the daily newspaper. A pigeon was placed in one of the last season's flowers, and its head and back appear above the top edge and its long tail extends slightly up and out over the edge of the vessel. My wife said she saw the birds for the first time on the previous Friday. When I sat at the patio table, no more than six or eight meters from the dangling bird, a second pigeon fell down and fell on the fence beside the pot. In this place, the nesting pigeon flew and replaced its place. . . Change the time of change! But the No. 2 bird was uncomfortable about my presence and flew to the ground a short distance away. This gave me a chance to take a quick look at the bowl, and certainly there are in this unwanted incubator, Walmart green plastic flowers, and two sessions of pale white eggs. I picked up my paper, went back home until the bird came back to the nest, and the pigeon-flower clock was on our family.
According to the information in the book "Birds of North America", our school book for this category of observation, what we see is exactly what should happen. Pigeon mourning generally consists of two eggs, incubated about 14 days before hatching, and kept warm by the bodies of both males and females of the husband while turning on the nest. What we did not understand was why the husband chose to settle near his back door, where the traffic from our house was fairly regular and not always very quiet. Did they feel secure in one way or another because we were close, thinking that we would not only cause them harm, but that we would protect them from any possible predators? We will never know, but we were happy with our choice of these wild cultures and our confidence in them, whether their choice is based on instinct, ignorance or confusion.
When we do not know exactly when the eggs were laid, we watched the floral eyes on the pair of flowers, and we observe almost exactly the clock, where they exempt each other from the duty to sit on the eggs to allow time for those unable to eat and drink, be fun as a dove can be Mourning (Have you ever heard her song?).
By the second weekend after the first arrival of the sleepers, there seemed to be work inside the vase. We did not want to disturb the small family. We kept the distance we made, making it impossible to know exactly what was going on with just a few inches in the pot. However, it seems that at the time of the change of Nubia, the imported pigeon will be very moving, and it seems to feed the young by replenishing the food they will take from its beak. This can be seen several times a day, and by the end of the week you can see two small heads with tiny pointed beaks, eating from my mother's mouths and pop doves.
I think moving the food from the mother birds to the birds will be a great subject for the photographs, and I've equipped my camera so I can get out on the deck any time the meals start. It took me several days, however, to know that any movement on my part did not yield any movement on their part. This was certainly an animal instinct in its simplest form. The greatest defense against any potential harm at this critical time in the lives of young birds that can not fly, fight or escape in any way is to remain perfectly stable when any other creature is moved soon, thus avoiding detection and potential consumption through snooping an animal. I gave up trying to do dinner at the doves' house, and decided that I would be happy just to take a picture of the camera that included an adult bird and a young bird in the nest. This is what I could do by standing on the patio chair about 5 feet from the nest and filming it in the dice with my close fitting. As it did, the birds remained motionless like porcelain decorations, except for the occasional shadows of its dark glossy eyes. The head of the adult was as smooth as satin, while the heads of the children, with their small prickly feathers just beginning to appear, seemed to have been bathed, energized, and his stomach to some young curly.
As the days passed, small birds grew rapidly and could be seen from time to time as they flapped their wings inside the nest, and no doubt they were strengthening and strengthening them out of the dice and into the world. This came quickly but in a series of small steps, where parents first persuaded the youngsters on the deck where they spent their first night away from home. From here, they moved to the deck and then to the ground, and learned to fly in short parts, while they were watching them and feeding them sometimes by their parents.
As of this writing, it was almost a month since we first saw the handlers on Sunday morning. The little kids grew up surprisingly big in a very short time. They look like miniature minions but their tail is still slightly shorter. They fly very well, sometimes land and stay for long periods of time on an iron deck near their flowery hometown. What they may think or feel as they move around in their surroundings, we will never know. But what we feel here from within the doors of the glass patio is that we have been blessed by witness to the transformation of this amazing page into the Book of Nature.
His son, grandson, and great grandson of farmers and gardeners, Douglas was born. Bishop, the editor of gardenvoice.com, is raised on a small farm in eastern Tennessee. Much of his love and knowledge came from the gardens from those early days. He earned a degree in Forestry from the University of Tennessee and worked in some aspects of gardening or landscape management throughout his life. Visit Garden Stories on GardenVoice.com for more farm house myths and garden tales.
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