Posted by: atowhee | November 28, 2017


Nov. 28, Tuesday:  Dark shapes against a gray drizzled sky.  Rain falls, one shape shifts, another flies off, mostly they appear to droop, almost as if soluble in the water.  Mournful doves but not Mourning Doves.  It is eighteen wet Collared-doves.  They endure this rain in a bare tree.  What do they know?  Can they know that this rain means more food and fodder in days to come?  What can they know beyond food, drink, reproduction, fear and sleep?  What can we ever know of what they know?  Would they enjoy a dry spot to perch and watch a documentary about their ancestors back in India?

A one scrub-jay about in the treetops, busy, tail wagging.  He’s the original opportunist.  Drowned earthworm?  Yum.  Rain, phooey, time now to gather the wet and sodden.  There is no time like the present.  In fact, there is only the present and the future in which my mighty caches will be supreme.



  1. The mournful doves are a no-show on your blog. Good questions… WHAT are they thinking? I go through it every day with the birds here.

    Hey, did you think of a granary tree here that I can photograph?

    Also, the acorn woodpeckers at Ashland Pond – what the heck are they doing in that tall tree. They practically fall in the holes only butt and wing tips showing as they do SOMETHING inside those holes. They never come out with anything, but they sure are busy fooling around there.

    m a

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