Aloft and on the wing

Speaking loudly, as those who often work with loud equipment frequently do, two guys overheard this morning from their perch high in the treetops were discussing last night and why they were “feeling puny” this morning when, in mid-sentence, one broke off: “Whoa! I didn’t know they had these in town.” He had startled and flushed a white-wing, which in turn had startled him, almost causing him to fall. Then one asked of the other, “Are you going to get you the next dove you see?” but I didn’t catch the answer to that one. White-winged doves seem to continue to displace mourning doves. Just yesterday at suppertime, a white-wing was fluttering around inside our screen pavilion. It had flown in through a partly unzipped stretch of netting but wasn’t finding its way out, although very soon thereafter it did. I’m tempted to recount more of the conversation from on high, but some of it, although highly entertaining, isn’t quite fit for polite conversation.

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