Preparing for New Life

My husband was recently doing some minor work on our eavestrough. I say recently but that word is relative in retirement. There is a casualness to the 'To Do' list once you retire. Schedules go out the window. What doesn't get done today ... well, there's always tomorrow (or next week or month).

Knowing the job wasn't complete, he left the ladder leaning against the wall of the house to be there once he decides to complete the repairs.

Today I looked out to find two doves diligently building a nest on the top of the ladder. I will assume they had scoped out this location for some time and, seeing no movement to this unusual roost, decided it was a prime perch for their homestead.

It is a good spot, in a corner of the house, just under the eaves. They will have privacy and perfect sight lines to any threats that may appear.

The biggest challenge seems to be filling the three holes on the flat top of the ladder. Eggs could easily drop through those holes so they fly in and out carrying and depositing sticks in a manner (I'm sure) they hope will fill them. I've checked in several times over the past two hours and they're still at it but I see one hole remains open.

As I watch them puttering about the gardens, choosing what they hope will be perfect pieces of flotsam, I realize I, too, shouldn't be hasty in my spring cleanup. In my anxiousness to get soil raked and cleaned up and ready to plant, I may be removing ideal pieces for nest building. I think I'll apply a little of the retirement schedule to the task and go a little slower. My back will thank me so it's all good.

As I said, they are diligent in their efforts. Pieces are continually falling through the holes but they just fly out to find replacements. They are nothing if not determined. Watching them reminds me of the squirrel nests built high in our trees. Throughout the winter, I've watched these frail-looking nests sway dramatically in some pretty vigorous winds and, yet, stay in tact. The builders seem to understand the challenges nature can inflict and compensate in their home construction. Makes me wonder if there are lessons here for we humans in our nest-building.

The doves (and their impending family) remind me of the news we received recently. My husband and I have another grandchild on the way but they live far away. Until we are both vaccinated, visiting is not possible. 

I try not to dwell on the many events and experiences we've missed out on because of COVID. While usually it might bring comfort to remember that others are in the same boat as you, in this case, I just feel sadness for all of us. There is a magnitude present in all that everyone is missing that makes complaining about our situation weak. Complaining rarely helps anyway.

Back to the doves. For now, I'll watch the progress of new life outside my window and settle with checking in with family on FaceTime.