I woke up this morning anxious. As a gigantic pot of coffee was brewing, I peered out the window onto the balcony and into my flower box where two little baby birds were still snuggled alone. Early yesterday afternoon, as I typing away with a furrowed brow to finish a deadline, I glanced out the window and noticed the mother bird had left. (I also noticed that my flowers are dying since I haven't watered them in three weeks so as not to disturb the nest.) Hours passed and she still had not returned. We had new neighbors move in yesterday -- making quite a bit of noise. Could the mother have left out of irritation? Was she sick of her kids? Had she had enough of her life and left everything in search of greener pastures?I stayed home last night, compulsively peeking through the wooden blinds to watch over the little babies. What could be so important to take a mother away from the nest with two little ones at home alone? Where was the father? There were no other mourning doves around to check on them. Years ago, when I first moved to Los Angeles, I stayed a couple months with my brother until I found a place of my own. There, on his balcony, a mourning dove had laid one egg. It hatched one day and the mother bird flew away never to return. It was excruciating to watch. I feared a similar situation.
It is amazing the thoughts we think and the feelings we feel through the skewed lenses of our personal experiences. We are sometimes quick to cast judgment and think we know what is best. This morning as I leashed Billy to go for our walk, I was doing just that. I was getting really perturbed. I wish there was a number for child protective services for mourning doves I could call, I told my husband. He sat quietly on the sofa blocking my view of his rolling eyes with a coffee cup. He didn’t read “Are You My Mother” as a little kid. That book is brutal.
I am relieved to report that nearly 24 hours later, the father has returned to the nest to care for the baby birds. The mother is still no where to be found. I cannot believe how attached I am to them -- little birds that, honestly, look similar to two hairballs some cat coughed up. I am really not that bored with my life -- just concerned with something I cannot control and avoiding a bunch of work I have to do all weekend. I am really overdue to have some fun...