I continue to be intrigued by the glass office buildings in Mission Valley, especially on days when we have clouds. On Saturday the mourning dove chicks left the nest outside my window.
*Smale Foweles Maken Melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
My companion birds have flown.
The nest is empty. I am lonely.
But in a month or two
she will come again
to renew my faith.
When she returns,
like Chaucer’s little bird,
she sleeps all night
with open eye
and waits to begin
what she by instinct
is assigned to do.
*From the prologue to the Canterbury Tales...
by Geoffrey Chaucer
1 comment:
Jerral,
I am in a new condo, having moved from my old double wide mobile home, in which I lived for three years in order to be near my wife during her last days. Out my bedroom window and living window my pation faces a preserve affording a view that feeds my soul. There are birds who inhabit the sanctuary and bring me daily delight as I observe. Their songs and cries speak a language I understand only in my imagination. The noise of the wild is a welcome intrusion into civilized noise which grates against the nerves of the soul. I am thankful for the small piece of respite. I wish I had them as close as your beloved doves.
Taylor
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