But I am not here to sing you the refraining chorus that plays in my head 24/7, “You will never survive this summer!” but rather, to share a few facts that are new to me, but common knowledge to anyone living with White-wing Doves in their neighborhood. First and foremost, they are bottomless pits!
How quaint that when we first moved in, I was afraid, due to the obscene number of cats that lived here, that I would never have any birds come to the feeder. How naïve, for now birds, particularly white winged doves are coming in droves and if I were to feed them as often as they empty the feeder, I would soon be in foreclosure.
Several sparrows help them in this pursuit, but because there are also cardinals and juncos, goldfinch and golden fronted woodpeckers, I hate to have them arrive to find the cupboard is bare, so out I go with another bucket of seed.
It turns out the White-wing Dove used to be mostly a tropical bird, which momentarily can make it seem exotic, but like so many other species it has pushed north and is perhaps headed to a bird feeder near you as we speak. They are gregarious grain eaters and love to arrive en masse.
And although they prefer to forage on the ground, several of them seem willing to hang on to the feeders, perch on top of the feeders, consequently knocking a lot of seed on the ground where they can eat it in their preferred manner. Possibly, they may provide some entertainment when the nesting season comes, for at least some of them are likely to nest in the junipers.
The nest is not an elaborate affair, mostly sticks, but I read that the male is very particular about which stick he offers his lady, so watching them chose and discard sticks may provide some amusement.
They also are known for their broken wing act when predators are around, so again, something to watch for. And, if its really too hot to do anything else, I can look deeply into their eyes to see if they are adults or young doves. The adult’s eyes are crimson with a blue ring, while the young have brown eyes, hold the ring. Which now that I am looking at them as I write this, most of them seem to be brown eyes. Hmmm, guess I will have to search out crimson eyed ones. Finally, if I can attempt to train my ears to hear the difference in their calls, their usual “who cooks for you” (which where I come from is attributed to Barred owls), can also be a drawn out “hooooh ahhh” if a predator is nearby. With the remaining feral cats still abroad, one would think they might do some “hoohahhhhing” at some point. Mostly I am curious is if sounds anything like the Army Ranger “HooAh!”. Probably not.
See the silly things you fill your time with, when you are not sure what to fill your time with. I will be thrilled to be going to an open house at a nature center 20 miles from here on Feb 8th. They are looking for volunteers for their education program and I can’t wait to put up my hand. It should provide a great way to learn about the Texas flora and fauna and be a great escape from the daily confronting of my non-domestic talents. So stay tuned to see if this little transplanted buckeroo can find a new direction.
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