I Got Your Back

Although we are celebrating the beginning of summer (appropriately so with this heat wave we've been having in NE), I find myself looking back a bit to spring...I missed most of it as it flew past my car window, a blur of green and streams of rain on my windshield. The past two months have been spent getting kids to and from classes, activities, and outings, ballet concerts, homeschool prom, and driver's ed.  In the beginning of May, I was blessed to have the opportunity to visit my family in Ohio, which was a retreat from reality (not in all good ways, but nevertheless, a retreat).  But since returning home, I have felt like I hit the ground running and didn't stop until about a week and a half ago!  Now that I've had some time to catch up on my sanity-and sleep-I can finally have a clear enough head to write again...

Where was I?  Oh yes-spring.  I want to write about spring, because I want to talk about how all the animals wake up and celebrate the new season. With spring, comes life, and ironically, usually depression for me.  I have always struggled with the Easter season far more than the Christmas one, the obvious reason being Bill's dying in March.  Easter is one of the most important of Christian holidays, but it is not as if my family had any special traditions that were broken after Bill left us. Still, to this day, it is torturous for me to sit through an Easter service at church because of the sadness it brings me.  Here, I should be celebrating the Resurrection, and the fact that because of that momentous event, Bill got to beat death as well as Christ.  But all I feel is an emptiness-a sorrow that life is bursting forth all around me, in both the physical and spiritual realms, but Bill isn't here to share that with me.  

Anyone who lives this far from the equator appreciates the coming of spring with a special fervor--no, "appreciate" isn't a strong enough word.  We cherish the coming of spring, because the winters here are typically so relentlessly long and unforgiving.  So when those first crocuses push through the snow, shortly to be followed by warm, cleansing rain and tens of thousands of tiny green leaves stretching out from their winter encasings, I get a great sense of anticipation.  

Then comes one of my most favorite things about spring--the peepers, as we call them here.  You know peepers--they make those wonderful first sounds of the night, chirping their declaration that spring is here and summer is soon to follow.  Every year in the evenings, starting some time in early May, when I am out driving, I will roll down my windows, no matter how chilly the air might still be, and strain to listen for those first little swamp-dwellers.  And when I finally hear them, it is truly my spring music!

One of my other most favorite things about spring is lilac season.  It's called our state's official flower for a reason--they are very prolific in our region, and I am so blessed to be able to live here to witness it.  They bring forth the most beautiful  shades, some lavender, others white; but my favorite color is the more rare deep, almost burgundy violet blossoms some of the plants produce.  Their heady fragrance is quite intoxicating!  I have a lovely lilac bush in my back yard.  Bill bought it for me about 7 years ago.  He brought it home from work one day, after seeing them for sale at a local plant nursery.  I was so touched that he remembered how much I loved them :)  I planted it that day, but it didn't produce any blossoms that year, nor did any flowers appear the next.  The first year it bloomed was around Mother's Day in 2007, just a couple of months after he had died.  It brought me such joy to see those first purple flowers, because I felt somehow that Bill had given them to me as a very special Mother's Day gift :)

So what about those animals?  Sorry, I guess I digressed a bit...Spring is also filled with animals, getting busy building nests, foraging for food, and making babies.  And they are everywhere!  Deer, moose, ducks, birds of all kinds.  Even the insects are swarming--regretfully--but I just have to remind myself that they do, at least, contribute to the food chain, even if that means I'm a part of that chain that they use for food-lol!  Anyhow, it seems lately my kids and I have had many unusual animal sitings.  One day we were driving into town and a man had pulled over to the side of the road.  He was out of his red pick-up truck, waving us down to stop.  He was in the middle of trying to rescue a huge snapping turtle from the certain death of oncoming traffic.  He had pulled a shovel out of the back of his truck, and was, unsuccessfully, trying to move the stubborn  reptile out of the middle of the road.  It was quite humorous to watch--he would gently shove the turtle, only to have it push back and snap at the shovel.  Finally he ended up overturning the thing onto its shell.  After righting it again, the turtle was really angry, but eventually allowed himself to be moved to safety.  Hmm...this sounds like a lesson in and of itself about trying to bite the hand that feeds it, but that will have to wait for another post...

On another day, just this past week, we were once again stopped by traffic, this time in the form of baby turkeys.  Now, wild turkeys run rampant around here, and most of us make jokes about "gettin' some Thanksgiving dinner," as they are not very bright animals, and often annoying.  But baby turkeys, well, there is just no disputing that they are very fluffy and cute, as all baby animals should be!  So one mother turkey had already escorted about 10 or so chicks across the road, but another  was now walking across, turning her head back to watch for her own babies.  They came trotting across, one...two...three...The mother, however, stayed by the side of the road, looking back towards where they had just come from.  There must be more babies.  Yep, there were, but they were too skittish to venture onto the pavement, so mama turkey took matters into her own, er, wings, and strutted back out into the road and stopped, right in front of my car, as if to say, "ain't NOBODY messin' with my youngin's! It was really funny to watch!  Finally she retreated to the first side of the road to be with the babies and I was released to finish my travels...

And the very next day, near the same stretch of road, two older gentleman, standing in a nearby yard, began waving frantically at me to slow down.  Once again, I stopped to see what all the fuss was about.  And there, about 100 yards or so in front of me, were the silhouettes of two very wriggly otters!  I wish they had been in the sunlight so I could see them more clearly (I had never seen otters in the wild before), but still they were very lively and fun to watch.  

Are you still with me out there?  I know I'm taking a very long time to get to my point, but I will get there, I promise!

So that brings me back to the animal I want to write about...mourning doves.  I think most of you know what they are, as they apparently thrive all over the US, Canada, and even a bit into Mexico.  But just in case, they are the birds with sand-colored wings who call out with a "oo..OO..oo.oo.oo"  Here's a sample :)

I've always loved these birds, even as a child, because of their unique call.  I never thought if it as a "lament," as their voices are often described, but rather as a happy sound.  And, as it turns out, it IS a happy sound.  It's the males' mating call.  Sometime later, I noticed that I rarely saw just a lone dove, but always two together.  Whether rummaging in the sand, or walking across a road, where there was one, another was sure to be close by.  And, mostly because I'm a quirky girl with odd worries, these birds began affecting my driving.  They like to hang out in people's yards and by roadsides, so they seem to always be about when I'm on the road.  It dawned on me that if I accidentally killed a bird, somewhere nearby, would be its partner, looking on in horror.  I couldn't bear being responsible for that! 

 Honestly, I didn't know much about this particular species and its habits, but today I decided it was worth looking into.  I found out some interesting facts:  mourning doves mate for life.  They are monogamous unless one dies.  In this case, the lone dove will eventually settle down with another mate.  When the male bird impresses his potential mate with much prancing and aerobatic tricks of flight, they begin courting, first by preening each others feathers, then later, by playfully grasping each other's beak.

Now they decide to find a home.  The male bird escorts the female "around town," showing her some options.  She gets to choose the perfect perch for their love nest.  They use teamwork to build their nest.  The male flies off in search of suitable twigs, then brings them back to give to the female to position in the nest.  The funny part is that he actually sits on top of her back and "hands" her the twigs in this fashion.  These birds, however, have a reputation for building very flimsy nests, and sometimes they prefer to move into a nest from a previous owner, such as a robin.

Another interesting fact about mourning doves is that they are very, very fruitful.  Each pair of doves has, on average, six broods a season!  The mother and the father birds are equally responsible for the incubation and care of the eggs/fledglings.  They take turns sitting on the eggs (the father during the day, the mother at night).  And they both feed their newborns.  For the first few days, the babies receive only a rich, fatty, milk-like substance called crop milk, which the parents both produce in the esophagus.  Only after a few days do they begin to feed their young softened seed.  Sadly, as devoted as these parents are, if, at some point, they sense danger, they may leave their eggs unattended and not ever return.

Ok, so your science lesson is done for today...I'm ready to make my analogy :)

It is amazing to find, in nature, habits and lifestyles so similar to humans.  It is a beautiful part of creation, that we are all linked in some way.  I love that, like humans, these birds carefully choose their mate, take the time for courtship, and work as a team to build their home and care for their young.  It's a true partnership--not like other species, where one parent is left to birth and raise their young, or even worse, species who don't even stick around for the birth (eggs to hatch, that is).  Oh, don't get me wrong, these species are all simply acting within their God-given nature.  But I am just fascinated by the ones who we can relate to.  The ones who love for a lifetime.  The ones for whom life must go on if they lose a mate.  I can obviously appreciate that process.  I have been blessed to have had a true partner in life--we did everything as a team.  Yes, sometimes one or the other had to bear the heavier load or the bulk of the work, but in the end, we did it for the bigger picture:  to learn, laugh, and love one another and the family God blessed us with.  I am very thankful that I was not left behind intentionally to raise my young on my own, but that God has given me the strength to do just that.  Of course, they say "it takes a village," and I feel I DO have my own little village of wonderful, loving, supportive people to stand by me as I take on the challenge.  As the mourning doves adapt to life's curveballs (broken nests, the loss of loved ones, finding "love" again), I am doing my best to adapt to mine.  So far, my batting average is holding steady, but there are days when I need someone else to pinch hit for me.  And I hope, in the future, this lost bird that I have became, may find another to share a life with; one who is also looking for a mate to soar the skies with...don't think I'm up to any more broods, though...just sayin' ;)

                                          Photograph by Alan And Elaine Wilson

                                         

                                 "I got your back"  :) :)