mourning dove

No more mourning

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

For the past couple months, I’ve been struggling with my new middle grade project idea, trying to land on the “correct” tone and approach. I’ve written a bunch of scenes, but knew I was missing the mark. Today in desperation, I turned to the google and asked a convoluted question about how to write a first draft when wandering around in the dark inside your head, clueless about how to find the right approach to the story. And this came up!

None of this approach is new to me, but the way J. Elle framed the info resonated, plus the timing was just right. This afternoon, I was in the right head space to take in the info and think about my project in these terms. I now have a short pitch and tent pole moments, although those may still change. I’m mostly just excited to have a solid-ish foundation upon which to build. No matter what happens next, I feel as if I’m moving in the right direction.

Mourning Dove. July 20, 2022

No more sad, mopey mourning for me. This project is finally on its way and for that, I am grateful.

Mourning Dove at rest

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

The simplicity of winter has a deep moral. The return of nature, after such a career of splendor and prodigality, to habits so simple and austere, is not lost upon either the head or the heart. It is the philosopher coming back from the banquet and the wine to a cup of water and a crust of bread. ~ John Burroughs

Conjuring warm memories

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

It’s bitterly cold today and uppermost in my mind is that I’m exceedingly grateful for my warm home. We had to take our dog to the vet this morning and it was a slow fourteen mile drive. Many were equally cautious but, of course, there were those who treated the snowy-icy streets as their personal speedway. We had to detour on the way home to pick up something and by the time I was at the red light at the top of our exit ramp, I was looking forward to being off the road.

WHAM!

Rear-ended by someone who’d missed the memo that the streets were freaking slippery. The good news is there was no damage to the car (except the impact knocked the muffler tape loose and now our old Subaru is REALLY loud again). The bad news? The collision triggered my PTSD and I was weepy and shaky for a bit, not to mention suddenly feeling so much anger toward people. The unmasked and the fast drivers, aka the people who don’t seem to give a damn about anyone else’s health and well-being. Part of the issue is that I’ve been rear-ended a bunch of times over the years and I’m really, really sick of it.

But again, uppermost in my mind today as the temperatures dipped well below zero is that I’m exceedingly grateful for my warm home. In that spirit, here’s a beautiful Mourning Dove I photographed at the Chatfield Audubon Center last May. A much more soothing image than the puffed-out birds hunkered down in the trees today.

Peace until all of us.

Twofer Tuesday: raincatcher edition

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

Birds frequently perch on the wire outside my kitchen window, but I’ve never seen this before:

June 6, 2022

It’d started to rain and these two Mourning Doves each lifted first one wing and then the other to catch the moisture, and then proceeded to groom themselves.  It was almost like watching synchronized swimmers (although I’m pretty sure the doves didn’t have to hold their breath) and I felt strangely honored to witness their routine.

I just did a quick online search for information about this phenomenon and came across a few posts on forums stating the equivalent of “I didn’t know doves did this” and “Very cool to witness.”

Have any of you seen doves bathing in the rain?

In it together

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

Mourning Dove. September 19, 2020

Mother Earth needs us to keep our covenant. We will [. . .] commit to our descendants to work hard to protect this land and water for them. Whether you have feet, wings, fins, or roots, we are all in it together. ~ Winona LaDuke

Understated beauty

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

Mourning Dove. February 14, 2020

A mourning dove’s beauty is an understated one: the colors of its feathers ranging through various shades of gray and drab violet, often with a striking splash of turquoise around the eyes.                                ~ Jonathan Miles

HA! As I looked through my photos and came upon this dove, I thought the same thing. Apparently, this Jonathan fellow and I think alike.

Wings of a dove

/ Tracy Abell
dove-imprint

Imprint after Mourning Dove hit the window (click to enlarge). Never saw the bird after that, so I believe it recovered and flew away. We have since applied window alert stickers to prevent further collisions.

 

For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.
~  Leonardo da Vinci

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