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Authors: Martha Moore

BOOK: Doveland
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The family of woodpigeon gathered cascades of heart-shaped leaves with droppings of catkins full of seeds from the poplar trees, and short stems of caspia.

As preparations for the mating ritual continued, some of the soon-to-be mates came together. Hunter found Tawney perched alone near the shore.

“Hello, beautiful!”

He had overheard the conversation with her father and whistled her a cheerful tune. Tawney let him know she was pleased to become his mate with her cooish smile, as she listened to his serenade. Hunter had a pale gray covert and conspicuously patterned black and white wings and tail. They planned to join the other doves in the upcoming ceremony devoting their lives to each other.

By late afternoon, the merriment gradually subsided as the community waited for their leader, Skybird, to speak from the ground center of the threshold. His soft brown plumage was dominated by dark brown spots on his outer wing coverts. A true descendant of the old world turtle doves, he regarded himself as a master of great strength.

“Let's feast on these morsels as we celebrate our homecoming, and congratulate those among us who will this day proclaim their lifelong mates.”

While the birds enjoyed the bountiful feast, they chatted and cooed about the new courtships and the anticipated new arrivals that would follow. Soon Antwerp began pecking morsels around the ground center toward Ringdove, whom he had chosen for his mate. His turtle dove feathers were dark brownish-gray with white on the tip of his tail, and black and white stripes on each side of his neck. Ringdove was from the family of Flanders. She boasted shiny chestnut brown feathers with a silky white ring around her neck that Antwerp admired. Anticipating acceptance at the ceremony,
Antwerp whispered to Ringdove. “I've found us a strong bough where we will build our new home.” Ringdove cooed happily.

Meanwhile, Tulip found Hawthorn's giggles quite humorous as they exchanged glances from a short distance. Her father, Rock Dove saw the pair communicating their affection and sought to intervene. He did not want his daughter to mate with the strange family of Laughing Dove. As Rock Dove approached Tulip, he sheltered his voice behind his outstretched wings and whispered. “Do you really think I'm going to allow my little flower to hatch a bunch of red-winged hecklers?”

“Oh, father, we don't care what color their wings are!” Rock Dove bobbed his head in disappointment as he returned to his mate, Robin. “It's no use.” However, Rock Dove and Robin did approve of the match between their son, Dipper, to Duchess from the family of Woodpigeon.

The leaders and their mates took their respective places on the front line surrounding the ground center. Present were the following leaders with their mates. Skybird and Lady Fern; Flanders and Chestnut; Rock Dove and Robin; Ghent and Plumy; Bruges and
Combs; Willow and Clover, Norder and Goosefoot; Dove Roufous and Mulberry; Woodpigeon and Leaflet; and lastly, Laughing Dove and Mossy.

Perched in the woody mezzanine, a chorus choir provided by the wild birds of the valley chirped in harmony with the pigeons and doves as they warbled the traditional mating tune. Meanwhile, Skybird and Ghent made passing glances at each other as the future of the community now rested with the offspring of their descendants.

The first courtship ritual was performed by Antwerp and Ringdove. They entered the threshold of the flowery archway where they continued down a short path to a circle mound decorated with short stems of caspia, a symbol of welcomed cheerfulness. Antwerp began his courtship dance around Ringdove as she paused gracefully. Her mother, Chestnut, beamed with pride as she watched her daughter's mating performance. Antwerp flapped his wings high over his back, then stood humbly before her and waited for her acceptance. She moved toward him and pressed her head against his chest while making cooing sounds. He opened his beak
and she reciprocated by placing her beak inside, completing the mating ritual. Together they leaped away to build their new home and begin a family of their own.

Continuing the ceremony, Hawthorn and Tulip moved forward through the archway. As they stepped down the path, Hawthorn became excited and began to involuntarily perseverate. “Pe-poo-oo, pup-oo.” His syllables rose and fell while the crowd's chanting ceased momentarily as he tried desperately to compose himself. Tulip became annoyed by her father's embarrassment, but she soon found comfort in Hawthorn's father, Laughing Dove, who was proudly amused by his son's inherited traits. Hawthorn's reddish-brown plumage fluttered from the back of his neck down to his tail. Finally, he composed himself and flapped his wings while circling Tulip. She proudly pressed her head against his trembling chest as he opened his quivering beak, and she accepted him. Together they departed to build their new home.

Duney and Heather were next in line. They were from the grouse families of Norder and Willow. In contrast to the mating rituals of the pigeons and doves, Grouse Duney strutted as he
hiked up his tail feathers with Heather following behind him. They continued the ritual by performing their mating dance down the path, across the circle mound, and into the woods where they will construct their new home on the ground.

Next, Dipper and Duchess stepped into the threshold of the archway. They were from the families of Rock Dove and Woodpigeon. After a short pause, Duchess posed gracefully as Dipper strutted around her, flapping his wings and standing before her, waiting for acceptance. She moved toward him cooing and pushing her head against his chest. He opened his beak and she reciprocated. They leaped from the ceremony to build their new home together.

Hunter and Tawney stood inside the archway. They were from the families of Dove Roufous and Ghent. They strolled down the path to the circle mound where Hunter began the mating dance around Tawney. While he flapped his wings over his back, she paused gracefully before pressing her head against his chest. He opened his beak and she reciprocated. Together they leaped away to build their new home.

The celebration of the homecoming and mating ritual was over, and it was time for the birds to return to their new nests.

Meanwhile, back in the forest, standing upright over a stump with his flexible neck moving about, Wimpy weasel had been watching the activities at the ground center. His reddish-brown long slender body was about fourteen inches long, the same length of his bushy tail. He liked to eat mice, frogs, and …bird eggs. When Wimpy's mother emerged from their underground burrow, she found him watching the celebration.

“We do not bother the birds!” she said firmly, bursting his hungry dream bubble with a hard slap on the head. His mother returned home leaving Wimpy to hunt for food.

Darkness fell upon the quiet valley as serenades of nature swept across the river to the trees of Doveland. Warm spring breezes strummed through the pines like the lingering chords from the stroke of a harp, sending vibrations from the woodwinds of the forest to the rhythm of the tambourine, performed by the aspens' tremulous leaves, quaking, clinging. Moonlit waters dressed in frills
of white lace waltzed to an endless rhapsody around the shores of the island, as the bird community rested for the night.

CHAPTER 2

Unseen by the birds, there were other animals that shared the comfort and safety of the isolated forest garden. Thriving under cover of darkness, these nocturnal animals gathered at the ground center of the threshold and began foraging on leftovers. Browsers and seed eaters, red squirrels, and chipmunks joined in the late night feast, even munching on the archway, slowly pulling it to the ground.

Wimpy weasel began to eat like a scavenger. Soon, his old archenemy, Hognose, appeared. The popular badger claimed to be the best underground burrower on the island, providing the best dry routes, for a bartered price of course. Hognose stood about two feet high and about thirty inches long with black and white facial stripes, in contrast to his solid grayish coat. He was considered rich by rodent standards, but he disliked Wimpy because he refused to work for his food. Hognose was an omnivore. He preferred frogs and small rodents, but he also enjoyed a variety of berries, nuts, and seeds.

Soon after his arrival, Hognose became annoyed with Wimpy's presence and decided to get rid of him by releasing a foul scent into the air. Before long, Wimpy became nauseated by the odor and spit out the remaining food in his mouth. Hognose laughed out loud as he watched Wimpy the weasel run away.

Wimpy would now have to hunt for food, and that meant work. Unfortunately, poor little Wimpy didn't find solace at home. His mother admonished him when he returned home with no food for the table. She sent him back out into the dark night, and this time she wanted him to return with at least three mice. She needed to pay Hognose to build an extra burrow for her expanding family. Besides, she wasn't getting any help at home from Wimpy.

He obeyed his mother's orders and set out into the night to find three mice. “Maybe I can find one tonight, one tomorrow night and one the next night!” he muttered as he nosed through the leaves in search of mice holes. “After all, whoever heard of working so hard you had to catch three mice in one night?” He complained as Hognose came to mind. “I bet that ugly badger could, I just bet he could!” Wimpy was up to no good. He ran back to the ground
center to see if Hognose was still there. He was. He dashed off to the largest underground burrow on the island. Slithering inside the well-kept burrow, he found three mice tucked inside a root ledge. He convinced himself that Hognose would never miss them, and scurried home.

Standing at the entrance of his home, his mother greeted him. Looking like quite the trapper, Wimpy stood tall clutching the three mice she had requested. She kissed him on the head three times, one for each mouse.

Later that evening there was a loud thump outside Wimpy's home. “Where's my mice?” roared Hognose. Wimpy's mother appeared at the door with the stolen mice. Hognose yanked them away from her in anger and left the burrow. Mother weasel turned around to find Wimpy hiding behind her. She was very disappointed and began smacking him all the way out the door.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” he shrieked.

“Get out and stay out!” she yelled as she threw him out to fend for himself. Still dazed at what just happened, he rubbed his sore
head and walked away from the only home he had ever known. Tired of being pushed around, he climbed into a hollow log and fell asleep.

A radiant sun pillar flickered through the trees the first day following their arrival. Morning greetings increased as the birds awakened and gathered around the ground center of the threshold to visit. Some began their early morning exercise routine of jumping up and down while flexing their wings. However, some new mates had other ideas about how to spend their morning as they made their way to a secluded part of the island.

Antwerp and Ringdove perched in a flowery rowan tree near the misty bank of the east shore, and talked about their future together.

“I hope to become a great leader like my father,” declared Antwerp.

“Our future son will be well prepared to follow you as leader. The Flanders side of the family are well known for their strong leadership and racing abilities.”

Meanwhile on the south shore, Hunter and Tawney perched on the limb overlooking the valley. A thick mist slow to expire hovered over the trickling waters beneath them. Tawney looked skyward.

“I would love to see our home from the sky, Hunter.”

Leaving the island would have never entered Hunter's mind. Realizing she was more adventurous, he felt the need to rise to her expectations.

“Okay,” thinking it would be a short harmless trip. No one would ever have to know, he thought. Hunter looked around to be certain no one in the community would see them leave, and they leaped away from the safety of their island home. Upward they flew, high into the sky above the forest and began to circle above their homeland. Tawney marveled at the spectacular view of the hills and valleys, and the white mist that surrounded the trees of Doveland.

“Look at all the trees!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed by the endless pastoral hills and vales. Hunter found his contentment merely in her happiness.

“You must promise me one day we will bring our children up here.”

Hunter promised. As they headed back to the south shore, he cautioned her to fly close behind him to remain unseen. Hunter glided swiftly above the misty river toward the south shore. Suddenly, Tawney screeched and Hunter looked behind him. A large hawk had leaped out of the thick mist below, now hanging in an updraft and hovering over his mate. The hawk wrapped his large talons firmly around Tawney, and flew back toward the deep dark woods.

“Hunter, help me!” her frightful voice faded with distance. It all happened so fast that Hunter lost track of them at the edge of the woods.

Hunter entered the empty dark forest, leaping from tree to tree in a desperate search for his mate. There were no more cries to follow, and no sign of his mate. He flew in the direction of subtle crackling sounds, and perched nearby. His worst fear was confirmed. Tawney was being held down by the talons of a large hawk, ripping her apart with his strong beak. Hunter quivered in
horror as he watched his mate die from the worst possible death ~ being eaten alive. With her head dangling, he knew she was no longer in pain. “My beautiful Tawney,” he cried. “I'm so sorry.” He watched as the hawk devoured all of her, leaving only blood soaked feathers on the branch as he flew away. Hunter remained in the forest that morning, incapacitated and inconsolable.

When he did return, he relayed the bad news to Tawney's father, Ghent, but did not divulge the tragic details of her death.

“You left the island?” He shouted. “You know the rules!”

Ghent notified Skybird who immediately called for a community gathering. Among the leaders who took their places as members of council were Ghent, the grieving father, and Dove Roufous, who felt his son, Hunter, had brought shame to the family.

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