Last spring there was a mourning dove that decided it liked pecking at the windowsill by my desk and came by once or twice a day. I really enjoyed it. The dove was calm, unrushed, serene.
One Friday and Saturday it brought a friend, a big fat bird with nicer plumage. They looked at me through the window to make sure I was harmless. I watched them peck around and do whatever it is birds do on urban windowsills.
When the A/C is in the window, I get pigeons, which I do not like. All their cooing is distracting and not pleasant. The doves are great, though. Quiet and curious.
This morning I woke to my wife and son talking about a pigeon in the window. I smiled to myself and called out to tell them to leave it alone. Sure enough, it was one of the mourning doves—the big one, contentedly sleeping on the dining room sill, away from the street and the hubbub.
I took a picture of him when he woke up, the bird looking at me looking at it. I then went back to work and I presume the dove went about its day, too. I hope it spends more time in my windows this spring.
