Mourning Doves

This male dove and his mate built their nest on the last few days of March and moved in on April 1.

The nest, which is really not much more than a handful of twigs, dried grass, long acacia needles, and pine needles, sits on a nesting platform (a wreath I wove out of greenwood) up on the porch eaves. It’s right outside the garden door, so we’re in and out all day and into the evening, but the doves don’t mind. They’re from around here!

Doves and house finches have been┬ánesting on the platforms in the eaves for the past 15 years. Last year and this, the finches decided to nest elsewhere, but I’ve got the feeling that this dove will have several batches here.

I don’t think that this pair is the same one that nested here last year, but my guess is that the male or female were hatched here. That’s why they’re so relaxed with us.

I love to listen to the male whistle in the late mornings and afternoons. Few things feel more like home to me than a mourning dove’s call.


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