The title says it all. This morning eighteen doves were waiting at the feeding-place. So much for my reckoning that there were seventeen. The scrum of birds round my hands when I held them out full of cheese was amazing.
To make a most dovish start to the day even more special, about an hour later I went outside for a short dove-break and held up one hand with food in it to the trees. Down came a dove, paused on the edge of the roof, then on a perch beside me, then hopped to my hand and fed there. To my delight it was the most lovely one, the bird I had thought it would be fitting to call Guinivere. Pure white, lovely eyes surrounded by fine grey circlets, beautiful feet...
To make a most dovish start to the day even more special, about an hour later I went outside for a short dove-break and held up one hand with food in it to the trees. Down came a dove, paused on the edge of the roof, then on a perch beside me, then hopped to my hand and fed there. To my delight it was the most lovely one, the bird I had thought it would be fitting to call Guinivere. Pure white, lovely eyes surrounded by fine grey circlets, beautiful feet...
