One Egg


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The actual two egg starter kit


The doves have once again built their shoddy little nest at eye level. It sits in a crotch of the old plum tree. I think it’s a plum tree, don’t quote me on that.

At first, two white eggs rested against each other upon that rough bed of twigs. The dove parent exploded and cried out every time I did anything in the yard. I try, even now, not to disturb the nesting doves. But. You can’t not go out into the yard, especially when you put in a mini garden and have this anxious need to SEE IF ANYTHING’S COME UP YET. Or clean up the winter debris that’s gathered, you can’t just ignore it. Well, you can.

So, in my faintly scientific study of the nesting doves, I note that the two eggs have become one single egg. Ah! Was it that big rain storm that went through? Something took one of the eggs? Why didn’t it take both eggs, then? Again, I tried not to harass that poor pair of birds just trying to raise a family. You’d think they’d get used to me going to and fro. Nope. The explosion of dove from that tree, the waiting for yours truly to GO AWAY, the mournful calling. It’s been rather cold so I worry that the egg would not hatch if the easily spooked dove mom and pops had to lurk nearby too much, instead of actually sitting atop their single hope.


The egg has hatched! A single ugly baby! Again, I just try to glance at the dove family as I pass by to water my lavender, which I’ve put in a container in the corner of the yard. Maybe I should move my lavender but even stepping into the yard disturbs the doves. It’s a no-win here, unless I just avoid the yard altogether until the ugly baby flops about in the yard trying to teach itself to feed and fly. I try not to go near that plum tree. I try to work in the front part of the yard or find other things to do outside that need doing that are not IN THE YARD. Of course the two dogs want me to either throw sticks or balls CONTINUOUSLY or lift this or that so they can hunt for rodents. Trying to get anything done with those two dogs about is nigh impossible. Or so I tell myself.

I’ll end this brief missive about dove eggs and the hatching of the remaining egg with…something profound and meaningful. If you can think of something profound and meaningful, then, by all means, credit that to me. Thanks!

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The hasty, blurry newborn chick pic. 
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Jake and Molly, the two dogs mentioned. This was taken at the local reservoir beneath a very gray sky. 

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