The Case of Our Basket Friends
SHEILA QUINN WILSON, MOTHER INSPIRED
July 5, 2007 – Our daughters are always about me without question – sometimes it's a great thing and sometimes not. If I am working in the office, our little one is at my feet and our passionate 8-year-old devours her books in the corner. If I am in the kitchen tidying up or preparing a meal, they closely follow. We are blessed to have a close-knit relationship with both our children.
When we decided to place begonias in the front of our house at the height of the season, it wasn't surprising that our little ones scrutinized my every move. They were seriously involved in their own delicious and very different ways, asking questions and dying to get their hands in the dirt. With pride, we displayed our flowers when we were done and admired them – but the begonias soon started to die. As shade plants, they didn't do well in our 'Sunnyville Patch' – the beginning of their end was inevitable so I eventually asked Graeme to bring them to the back of the house where I would try to salvage them in private angst. The move was accompanied by intense curiousity from our nosy twosome and, stressing over my Medusa-like trait with plants (begonias belong in the back, du-uh!), I didn't hesitate to shoo the girls away.
"Mommy, you are soooo good at killing plants!" mocked my oldest.
"Did they DIE?? Why did they DIE? But, are they DEAD?" that was my youngest.
They taunted me and I could hear them gossiping in loud whispers about 'mommy killing the plants again.' Graeme was grumbling how we had squandered good money needlessly and, trip after trip, he sighed loudly when he went by me. We had four baskets begging for heroic measures – why didn't we just get two? How could it get any worse?
It surprised me when, coming back from his last trip, Graeme had a twinkle in his eye. Quite purposefully and with great pride, he dropped the crinkly hanging basket at my feet. I thought, "Oh, no! Now what?" But when I looked down, I saw a little white egg!
We called the girls over to see. In unison, they asked, "What is it?" Always looking for an opportunity to tease, both Graeme and I concocted tall tales – a giant spider's nest, a dinosaur tooth, an Easter Bunny egg that we would fry in a pan,... Our youngest liked this idea best, clasping her hands together in anticipation of having another snack!
Truthfully, we knew it was a bird's egg – but which bird? Could it be the Goldfinch that has been fluttering at our upstairs windows for weeks? Graeme laughed, reading my mind and crushing the idea, pointing out that the egg was too big. We soon found out that the family nest belongs to a Mourning Dove. She patiently sits there (in our dead basket that we just had to put back) and swings in the breeze. She watches us watch her – and she is very protective.
 Our Basket Friends, mother dove on the left and her newly hatched offspring on the right
The girls like to be lifted for a peek every couple of days and, over the Canada Day long weekend, not one egg but two hatched – we had two? Now we just wait for the birds to fly away so that we can replace our dead plant (there's no saving this one!) with another full sun variety.
So there you go, the case behind our basket, if you have recently walked by our house...
It will be a bittersweet ending for me, for all of us, when the birds take flight. We want to replace the flower basket and regain our curbside dignity, but we will miss the friendship that has formed between us and the Mourning Doves. Crazy, isn't it?
Article by Sheila Quinn Wilson – Mother Inspired
©2007 All Rights Reserved.
July 9, 2007 – See how quickly the doves are growing? They now have feathers and their eyes are open!
Article by Sheila Quinn Wilson – Mother Inspired
©2007 All Rights Reserved.
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