Our humble brethren

June 29th, 2024

A white dove perched itself on the top of the bird feeder in the garden this morning. The bird feeder was empty because from May until September I don't put any feed for the birds there — there are plenty of insects to go around. Yet, the dove must have been familiar with this particular bird feeder since it was curiously and expectantly looking for anything to eat there. I took some peas I had close by and walked out to the garden to put them in the bird feeder, expecting the dove to fly away and wait for the moment it would be safe to swoop in for a feast. That is what happens with other birds that get their food there in colder seasons — they scramble around the bird feeder, then fly away when a person approaches, and fly back in as soon as that person leaves. But this dove didn't fly away. It remained perched on the top of the bird feeder looking at me. I gently walked very close, savoring this unexpected moment. I stood right there within an arm's reach of a wild bird. We looked at each other, or rather I was looking at the beautiful snowy white dove, and the dove was twisting its head trying to take a look at what I was bringing for a meal. That dove wasn't afraid of me, and wasn't desperate for food — it was a mutual calm curiosity with added admiration on my side. I reached with my hand but as soon as my fingers almost touched the plumage of that dove, I thought better of it and just put the peas in the bird feeder and walked away. The dove waited for a few seconds before it jumped down to eat the great and unexpected feast. Or maybe expected. I don't remember seeing such a wonderful white dove at my bird feeder before, but it seemed to be feeling and behaving right at home there in my garden.

I feel very good about this encounter and those few seconds it lasted already made my day.