The song sparrows made a home outside my window long before I arrived. When I moved into my apartment in February 2020, I discovered their nest outside my south-facing bedroom window. The café below me has two bright blue awnings that slowly roll out each morning, and the collection of twigs sat right at the top, across from an adjacent tree branch. Before opening, I could hear the café owner sweeping the sidewalk, paired with the whistling birds outside. Sometimes they’d get so loud it seemed unbearable, but I learned over time to tune out the noise. One night, a friend stopped by to watch a documentary with me, and in the middle of the show he paused it and said, “What is it? 6am or something?” and I suddenly recognized their scream-singing voices, communicating with each other about something that couldn’t wait until morning.
I had a nest of morning doves but I came to spell their their name as mourning doves because their song was so longing. I always knew when it was spring, because they appeared after a long winter. I don’t know where they spent their winters but was grateful they shared the other three seasons with me.
A beautiful post, Nina. It made me more mindful of how our lives entwine to rhythms of nature. The ebb and flow, change, growth, and transformation. Much love. ♥️
I had a nest of morning doves but I came to spell their their name as mourning doves because their song was so longing. I always knew when it was spring, because they appeared after a long winter. I don’t know where they spent their winters but was grateful they shared the other three seasons with me.
Beautiful!! I loved it. ❤️😊
That was beautiful
A beautiful post, Nina. It made me more mindful of how our lives entwine to rhythms of nature. The ebb and flow, change, growth, and transformation. Much love. ♥️
Wanting to know that you found your new space with continued well being & doing & often enough surrounded by sparrow like experiences.