Wood Dove watching

I recently felt a little like the wood dove perched on the corner of the railing in the outdoor cafe, mere yards from where I was sitting.  He looked cold, wet and out of sorts.

It was a cold and very wet day and I had got the time wrong for meeting some dear friends – I had an hour to kill.  I had been getting a lot of things wrong lately, and I was not even sure if we were meeting to eat or just have coffee.  After sitting restlessly for a quarter of an hour I decide to order a quick bite that I could finish before they arrive. Lately I had been doing a lot of eating for the sake of it and not out of hunger.  Another bad decision as the sandwich was not too edible, but the wood dove benefited from my abundance of leftovers.  I consoled myself with a few squares of chocolate from my handbag which I was not about to share.

Yes, I was cold and rather empty of what I felt I should have and feel.  I was annoyed and out of sorts.  Yet I was not alone.  The dove was there by me, trying to stay warm, like me.  He did not move from the railing where he was perched, a few feet away.  He was not threatened by me when I shifted uncomfortably in my seat at least a dozen times while I waited for my friends.    In that time frame, he was my companion, indulging me, my indifference and out of sorts-‘ness’.  He understood what I could not even put into words.  A silent understanding.  And it was enough.

When my friends arrived they got me to laugh and I got them to pray for me.  And all was well.

When I looked for the dove as I was leaving the cafe, he was gone.


wood dove 2