The other day I was washing dishes, trying to find SOMETHING good in the pile of stuck on food. I looked up and outside my kitchen window was a mourning dove watching me. It sat there, with its black eye staring me down, calmly observing.
They’re a dime a dozen around my house. Awkward, bulky critters who spend much of their time alone in my trees coming down to scavenge, and lament to one another. (Apparently they’re rather like me . . . but that’s beside the point.)
Despite my somewhat pathological fear of being in close proximity to birds, its feathers looked so soft I wanted to hold the thing. I was amazed at how many tiny feathery appendages covered just the dove’s head. Continue reading “The Secret to Joyful Living”