Mourning doves make pitiful looking nests. To my eye they are no more than a few beakfulls of sticks in a haphazard pile but I am no mourning dove.

Last year a pair of doves nested and raised two babies just outside one of our second story windows. I marveled at those those few sticks that made up the nest as they persistently clung to the branches all through the winter, and now, the doves are back. They have added what looks to my eyes to be another scant pinch of twigs to spruce up their old tree top home and are settled down to the business of raising a family. The top of an old tree on a tiny bed of sticks look like a perilous position to me.
But I am no mourning dove.
I’m participating in the April Squares challenge with The Life of B!









