The Lindsey Family

Outside of my kitchen window a few weeks ago, I watched two doves busily build a nest in the eaves of my back deck. As Tom pulled out the hose to spray their hard work away and protect his patio and barbeque grill from unwanted bird droppings, I vehemently protested. I continued to watch as the mating dance went on and then a quiet calm took hold as the mother bird sat upon the nest for a few more days. Then as was to be expected, two little heads appeared beside her. The three sat together contentedly until one day I noticed that mom was gone. I wondered how long it would be before the babies, who were getting entirely too big for the nest would take flight. I watched for two days and no one moved. One day I saw mother bird sitting on the fence nearby just watching the inactivity.  Then suddenly without warning there was a flurry of sound and a desperate rush of wings as both birds plunged forward in a mad dash.  I heard a loud thud as one new adventurer plowed right into the kitchen window and dropped to the concrete. We all looked at the shaken bird as it sat there stunned next to the back door. My first thought was for the safety of that injured bird. Too many birds before him had found their way to the dinner table of a big black cat named Nug. I reached forward with the intent to at least lift him to higher ground. As I got close enough to touch, he suddenly spread his wings and rose in flight. I was pleased that he managed to get himself out of harms way. Later that day Jessie drew my attention to the fence where two doves were sitting quietly, thinking that the babies had returned. As I looked closely I noticed that they were not the baby birds but were the original couple just gazing up at the empty nest. 

I didn't think much of the experience except, WOW that was kind of cool. Then as the day wore on I realized what a wonder I'd just been privy to. The cycle of life in a microcosm! In light of my present despair, I thought, how apropo. 

My little birds have also flown and continue to fly at an alarming rate. I need to take note of the quiet calm that the mother bird exhibited as she sat patiently watching on the fence and then follow her example of silent resolve as she checked to see that the nest was indeed empty. My immediate response to rescue the wounded bird  was in direct contrast to the new youngster's need to fly. There too I find life's lessons.  Baby bird made a critical error and flew smack into the window the very moment he decided to leave the safety of the nest. He was in real danger of being devoured by the cat, but as soon as I decided to intervene he found the strength to rise to greater heights than he'd ever been before.

Hmmmmm??!!