A huge, white lion with a roar strong enough to measure in miles per hour, with a mane of frost and a tail of ice, March has entered in. It's reminding us that sunshine does not mean spring and that longer days do not mean a thaw. In fact, we could be up to our knees in snow until Beltane, or at least April Fools Day.
Sadly, I came home at lunch to a frantic pair of doves. February and November are usually rather mellow, even if they don't want to interact with us. They were both bouncing around the cage, eyeing everything in the room and giving warning/distress calls. Oddly enough, they settled when I opened the cage and pulled out the nest bowl. Inside was a partially pipped egg with a dead chick. They've laid many eggs before and none have ever come close to hatching so I just leave them in the cage until they lose interest. I actually thought that they had a pleasant alternative lifestyle. I guess I'm happy that they're fertile, in case we want baby doves someday. I wish that we could have found out with a live hatchling. Both doves seem fine tonight. They are cuddled up, waiting to be covered for the evening.
Four to six more inches of snow are expected by morning. The winds haven't died down yet. I hope that this lion turns into a lamb in a few weeks. I think I might give the doves another try with the next set of eggs and see if life will emerge.
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