Take Flight

Yesterday I was again amused by the life cycle of our second round of balcony doves. Around 11:00 am I sat on the porch and watched as a scruffy-looking dove baby paced up and down the balcony beam, with Homer watching (with amusement?) from the gutter above. The Homie would make soft squeaking noises that got increasingly loud, frequent, and frustrated-sounding. It was clear that Homer was trying to get her little one to flap its wings and try to the fly. The tiny and hard black droppings over the stairs were testament that this little unsure winged one had probably tried a few times, and watching him pitch a fit clued me in to how well it was going...

Finally after a few unanswered squeaky paces, the baby huffed back to the nest and flopped down. Homer walked along the gutter and perched on top of the roof, out of sight from her baby but just above the nest for safety. Any good mother knows that raising a child takes patience, but prodding, and Homer is no exception. After about an hour, she joined her little one in the nest and stayed there for most of the rest of the day. This morning I could hear the Homie squeaking again, and sure enough, Homer had started the flight lesson again. Within a few days Homie should be strong enough to go off on his own.