Birds of a Feather

By late this afternoon, the desire to take some photos became just too great to sit and not do anything. So out to the garden I went!  Actually, out to the garden we went.

“Look, right there.”

“What?”

“A baby mourning dove.”

“I don’t see it.”

(shifting slightly)

“Ah.”

“You can take her picture.”

“Well, the minute I move closer, she will fly away.”

“She’s a baby.  She doesn’t fly well, and she’s still pretty tame.”

As the foot stepped closer, she shifted a little, but did not fly away.  Back and forth, foot and dove, playing the game, until finally camera leaned in and shutter went click.

baby dove

Contact!

Smile.  Breath.  Yes.

Turtledove

Be well, and at peace,

Phil

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