Red in tooth and claw
Opposite my chamber window,
On the sunny roof, at play,
High above the city's tumult,
Flocks of doves sit day by day.
On the sunny roof, at play,
High above the city's tumult,
Flocks of doves sit day by day.
Well, not flocks, but you will remember the various comings and goings of the doves outside my bedroom window. First there was mother dove:
Collared dove |
and her eggs |
Then one day mother disappeared and one of the eggs, which had been just about to hatch, soon grew black and a bit smelly, until I pushed it over the edge. All was not lost though; after a few days another collared dove turned up and laid two more eggs, one of which soon hatched to produce this little charmer: |
So all was well. I felt quite paternal and supplied bits of strawberry and bread, which were scoffed voraciously. On my window-ledge, to lure them, Crumbs of bread I often strew, And, behind the curtain hiding, Watch them flutter to and fro Alas, this passerine paradise could not last. The other morning, very early, there was a squawking and wailing outside the like of which I haven't heard since that fortnight with Juicy Lu in Aracaju. I got out of bed to find mother and chick gone. I have waited and waited, but still no sign of them, and I fear the worst; outside my bedroom is a dangerous place for birds. Though not as dangerous as inside. Fnarr, fnarr. |
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Deb~