It was kind of like peace and the plague at the same time at our house Easter Sunday. It was chilly in the morning and we began to think the weather prognosticators might be wrong, and that the heat of the day likely would not develop the fuel which the pending storm system needed.
There were several pairs of doves feasting on seed strewn in the yard for the various birds to enjoy and they were all content sharing with their feathered friends. One pair is very large. A Google search says they are Eurasian Collared-Doves which have “plump bodies, small heads, and long tails. They’re larger than Mourning Doves but slimmer and longer-tailed than a Rock Pigeon. The wings are broad and slightly rounded...they are the species of collared-doves that come from the continent of Eurasia (Europe and Asia).” They’re pretty birds that hang tightly with their mate and we enjoy watching them.
Shortly after noon we headed to Newton to take a care package to my 87-year-old dad who is doing a great job of sheltering in place as we all grow more weary of the isolation. He’s alone in the house other than his little dog, Pepi, so he looks forward to package deliveries.
Our route from Sebastopol led us through Prospect, and Conehatta and all along the way we eyed more and more doves on the roadside. Wife, Danny, commented it must have something to do with the pending storm system, but we had no real proof of that theory.
The wind had begun to pick up a bit and by the time we got to Dad’s the temperature had drastically jumped to the mid 70s, pushing 80. The casual breeze had turned to strong gusts and the tomato plants we had set out by his patio were struggling to stay upright.
We visited for an hour or so, at a safe distance of course, and when Danny and I headed back to our house the wind had become stiff and the trees along the road were swaying to and fro, but those doves were still all around.
When we pulled up into our drive those two big birds and a host of regular size ones were still visiting and the wind had scattered yard art and some big ole Easter eggs around our hill. That’s when we noticed the flies. There were flies everywhere and they seemed to be attracted to those big colorful Easter eggs that had blown out of the old wooden wheelbarrow by the well.
A plague of flies and a flock of peace doves — it seemed like something of biblical importance to me.
We gathered the yard art and moved some yet-to-be-planted flowers and vegetables inside — just in case — since the threat of the storms seemed to be much more real in the afternoon than it had been in the morning. We also decided to “shelter our vehicles in place” next door where my aunt and cousin have a nice, large RV shed and then we sheltered ourselves in place in the living room and watched as the “breaking news” weather alerts began to appear on the television.
Outside the window, beneath the old cedar tree where I had flung some corn, there were eight doves pecking the ground like a flock of chickens. Smaller birds and some Redbirds joined them and I was more determined than ever these dove were a sign, although none held an olive branch like the one in the Bible.
“I believe this is a sign from God,” I said to Danny, “that the plague that has taken over the world this year is about to come to an end.”
“Good,” she said. “I’m ready for them to open this country back up and get back to normal.”
The tornado trackers continued their work on the television as areas south of us took the brunt of the storm and then the phone rang. It was my dad. I went outside for better reception and learned that the large oak tree in his backyard had fallen on top of his house. Fortunately he was okay, and his roof was not leaking either, and we called his insurance agent to come check it out.
“I think we need a better dove,” I said to my wife, as I returned to my chair and watched them feeding outside the living room window!
