Photo essay: backyard mourning doves

We set up a bird feeder on our deck. Mourning doves are some of our most frequent and cherished visitors. This is their story.¹

They arrive in the morning and ponder life.
(Mark: That’s why they’re called mourning doves! Sidney: No it is not.)
Meanwhile, other birds eat breakfast.
We are alerted to their arrivals and departures by their wing whistles.²

When sufficiently motivated, the doves attempt to eat.
They mostly miss the seeds when they peck at the ground. When they don’t miss, they drop the seeds, like, half of the time.
Sometimes the seeds fall between the deck boards and they get confused.

The doves leave briefly after breakfast and come back to sunbathe from 11-4 or so.
Small birds don’t scare them, but squirrels set them scurrying about.

This one’s leg is injured.

Sometimes they hang out in groups of 2, 3, 4, or 5.
They especially enjoy sitting under our chair and side table.

A good sunbathe can lead to preening… which can lead to sexy times.³

Sometimes they come back for dinner and sit peacefully until sunset.
(Mark: One wonders what they are thinking about. Sidney: They are not thinking.)

Footnotes

1. On an average summer/fall day. Their winter schedule is a bit different, and we’ve also been less consistent with the seeds. ↩

2. The feathers at the rear of the dove’s wing are contoured so flapping creates high-pitched vibrations. ↩

3. They also grab each others’ beaks and bob their heads right before mating, which is frankly terrible foreplay. ↩