There are doves nesting in a planter right by our front door. We noticed it last week when Operation Spring Clean Up began.
If we open the front door the dove flies away and leaves two beautifully perfect eggs in a simple elegant nest right under the light by our door. So, we don’t open the door. We can’t, they need to be on those eggs. As I often do in my life, I went to Google.
Doves nest for an average of two weeks before the little munchkins hatch. The male dove takes the morning shift and then switches with the female who sits the night shift. They share keeping their eggs warm, they watch over and protect each other. Newly hatched doves have an average one year life expectancy. Most don’t make it past a year. Those are not good odds.
I’m invested in these doves and their two perfect eggs. No one is allowed to use the front door until the babies arrive and I find myself staring out the window at the whole process.
My life has been a little crappy lately. Nothing major like worrying that my baby won’t hatch or make it past a year, but normal stresses. Things not appearing to go my way these days. I’ve had a hard time being optimistic, but the doves are here now.
They took shelter near our home and are trying to hatch two healthy eggs. They are constantly on guard and I’m sure nervous for very good reason, but they stay alert and patiently wait. The doves feel like a symbol to me. They represent something that I can’t quite figure out. Maybe it’s the basics, or surviving in spite of life’s challenges. Maybe I’m just in awe of their patience. I’m not sure. There are so many things out of our control, doves and humans, but we still show up to the fight.
I’m hoping life eases up for me, but more than anything right now I want things to work out for these doves. I want to see them safe and their eggs hatched. The rest of my mess can wait two weeks.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Start Nesting.