Dove Days of Summer

I have a problem. There is a beautiful little brown bird in my windowsill. I tried very hard over the last week and a half to discourage her from building her nest in my windowsill, as I will need to open that window to fan in fresh air when Cleveland finally heats up. I live in the attic. It gets warm. But despite my best efforts, the little brown bird insisted that this was indeed where she needed to be and after I dumped out her nest three times I came home to find her sitting on a patchy little nest of twigs and two small, pink eggs. I let out a deep sigh. Now it was a moral dilemma: to kill or not to kill.

I frightened her away several times just to get a better look at her brood. The two eggs, about the size of plump olives, sat side by side, with their creamy pink shells, glowing translucent in the reflected afternoon light. What was I do with these two marvels and the patient mother bird who now waited out of eye-shot till I retreated from her nest? I closed the window and thought.

I will swelter in the heat of coming days before this bird and her young have left. I could try to move the nest to some other locale; a nearby jutty or ledge somewhere else on the house top. I could upend the nest and let it drop three stories, killing the new eggs and displacing the mother. I could remove the eggs and decorate them as pysanka (that one gave me a chuckle when I thought of it. Trying to decorate miniscule eggs is funny to me for some reason). None of these alternatives were that appealing. Fortunately, it's still cool enough to keep the window closed. I went to work and weighed my options. I looked it up on my computer and found a picture: It was a mourning dove. A common enough bird.
I told a coworker about the bird. She seemed enthusiastic. "Oh, how lucky you are! That bird chose you for some reason." "Excuse me?" I responded. "Yes," she said, "You have an animal totem. Would you like to know what the dove means?" I stammered a response and this petite woman rushed to her office computer and began her search of the mystical meaning of the little brown dove in my window. "It's gestation period is four to five weeks," she shouted from her desk, "here, I'll print it out for you." A long pause from her office and then I hear her say, "Oh." And then, "Oh!" "What did you find?" I was all curiosity at this point. "You'd better come see this," she said. I stood behind her as she read the mystical Native-American interpretation of the dove. In a serious, clear, reverant voice.

"The dove holds the qualities of home, security and maternal instincts. Many with this totem will experience unsettling childhood's."

(whew, I thought, good thing I've already gotten the unsettling childhood out of
the way...)

"The legends and lore surrounding the dove associates it with many goddesses and it is considered the embodiment of the maternal instinct. The brood of dove consists of two eggs. Two represents the creative and feminine energies. Home and family are important to those with this totem and life lessons will be most predominant in these areas. "

Here the woman looked up at me with a mock "uh-oh" face. I just smiled. "Looks like you'll be getting married soon!" (Oh, geez. I'll be sure not to tell that to my boyfriend!) "And getting pregnant!" (Or that!)

"Since the dove is a ground feeder and eats mostly seeds those with this totem would benefit from a diet rich in wholesome seeds, nuts and grains. They would also do well in any health profession relating to nutrition."

"Like your granola bars," she added over her shoulder. I rolled my eyes and she continued.

"The dove's song is its most distinctive feature. It can be heard throughout the day. The mourning coo of the Dove reflects hidden emotions stored within those who carry this medicine. How you perceive its sound often reflects the energies that are playing out in your life."

(a beautiful thought, actually. The dove's call was open to interpretation and I had experienced sometimes with joy and sometimes with longing for whatever it was the bird seemed to be calling for.)

"When dove appears it is asking us to go within and release our emotional discord, be it of the past or the present. It assists us in releasing trauma stored within our cellular memory. Humming can aid in this release."

We both laughed. "If you catch me humming in the office," I said, "you can only blame yourself."

She continued,

"Doves hold the energy of promise. When inner turmoil is cleared from our thoughts, words and feelings, the possibility of good fortune awaits us. In order to receive the gifts the doves bestows on us healing on all levels is paramount."

So there, you have it, folks. My little mourning dove is a good omen of healing and change. And motherhood. Dear God.

On the other hand, doves are also a lovely symbol of peace, recovery, and blessing. So, I may have to move to a cooler room of the house as the weather heats up, but I am going to let the dove have the windowsill and I am going to take her as a sign.

Pictures and story to follow.