#rock and mourning doves

[verved]

The only thing keeping me sane rn is birdwatching on the balcony of this hotel. There are so many species of bird here its incredible and I'm greatly enjoying the bird drama unfold.

[mosticonicbirdcallbracket]

MOST ICONIC BIRD CALL BRACKET ROUND 3: BATTLE OF THE DOVES: MOURNING DOVE vs. FERAL PIGEON

IN THE BLUE CORNER, we have a special guest unlike any other. please give a resounding applause for the graceful avian sensation, the MOURNING DOVE!

with feathers as soft as silk and a wingspan that paints the heavens, this aerial acrobat is a true marvel to behold. known for its gentle coos and solemn presence, the mourning dove embodies elegance and resilience. with every beat of its wings, it captures the hearts of the audience, evoking a sense of peace amidst the chaos.

opponents beware, for the mourning dove possesses an indomitable will. it rises above adversity, symbolizing hope and resilience in the face of darkness. its presence in the ring is a reminder that even in the toughest battles, there is always a glimmer of light.

so get ready as we witness the aerial poetry and unwavering spirit of the mourning dove!

IN THE RED CORNER, hailing from the gritty streets and urban landscapes, brace yourselves for the untamed force of nature, the FERAL PIGEON!

once a domestic animal bred for their incredible homing ability, this fearless bird has mastered the art of survival in the concrete jungle. born and bred in the chaos of the city, the feral pigeon is a symbol of resilience and adaptability.

don't be fooled by its humble origins, for the feral pigeon possesses an unyielding determination and tenacity. with a relentless spirit, it fights tooth and feather, using its sturdy wings to deliver punishing blows and unleash a flurry of rapid strikes.

so prepare for a display of pure audacity and unruly power. the feral pigeon is ready to take flight, leaving a trail of feathers and chaos in its wake!

[minmos]

im being really really good and nicey at not replying to people being condescending to me about birds while being objectively wrong on my own post

[garfieldstim]

Can I please request a mourning dove stimboard in gray and brown?

mourning dove stimboard with brown and grey for anon

x x x / x x x / x x x

[c0rpseductor]

was looking in the comments for pigeon video to find the name of the song and one of the people in there was like “NOOO DONT MAKE FUN OF HIM WE BRED NESTMAKING OUT OF PIGEONS </3” and im just. What? have you ever seen a mourning dove nest? this is a natural goofy columbidae behavior

[nervocat]

we could go on nature walks together but 💔💔💔

OMG DEVIL THAT'D BE SO FUN WHAT. I ACTUALLY LOVE GOING ON NATURE WALKS :33

[nerium-aquifolium]

The awareness ribbons represent each of their most prominent illnesses. Not saying which of them they are, but you can kind of give yourself an idea of which could they be.

Noamí and Melora are disabled teens. We should treat young disabled people with more dignity. Never be ashamed of being disabled.

[sofiasfanartcollection]

Finished my painting of Hypno feeding the pigeons and doves :)

These are mainly rock pigeons, including most of the white ones, but there is a white Barbary dove, a couple mourning doves, and a diamond dove in there. Can you find them?

I think Hypno often rescues doves/pigeons (another headcanon).

The Barbary dove and diamond dove are escaped birds that wouldn’t likely survive long in the wild, so Hypno will be bringing them home with him. Some of the little white rock pigeons are domesticated and the pigeon on his right hand and pigeon on his right shoulder are escaped racing pigeons so he will keep them too. The mourning doves are wild and doing just fine. They can be pretty shy, but they feel safe around Hypno.

Here’s a sepia version for fun and some of the line work

[ionizing-zenaida]

Goretober day 7: Eyes.

In case you ever felt watched while you slept.

[mey-rin-is-fabulous]

Double Crested Cormorant that I thought was a Loon at first, male and female Mallard ducks, Ring Billed Gull mid laugh, an Osprey, the coolest thing I saw all day what I think is a Barred Owl which I disturbed I think looked at the tree whipped out my binoculars to see what was in the tree and lo and behold there it was being annoyed by Robins and then we saw a Mourning Dove, then we got home and saw a Rock Dove.

It really is worth it bringing binoculars everywhere with you.

[nickbutnodick]

sometimes I feel like we share braincells idk why

if you wish to not have them for a bit I would be happy to receive them (you're very cool and talented and I would like the ability to gaze upon a bird and know what it is occasionally)

thanks!

[mattyhattersideblog]

[so-many-birds]

Holy shit. Pigeons are SO fast when they want to be. So, so fast.

No, I will not be elaborating. (/j)

[a-rogue-god]

is there a favorite pigeon picture you've seen and why would it be your favorite? jus curious cus I love pigeons too :]

I love this image a lot. Do you have ANY games on your fone??

But tbh these pics of this pigeon when I was down in Maryland are superb. With all the seagulls around I was so happy to see PIGEON.. there were a couple other

There were also these guys in the ripleys believe it or not. All images of pigeons are my favorite djfjd

[nerium-aquifolium]

Part two of the November comic!!

[headspace-hotel]

Nature is healing.

I burned the Meadow a couple weeks ago. At first it looked like nothing but charred ashes and dirt, with a few scorched green patches, and I was afraid I'd done something terrible. But then the sprouts emerged. Tender new leaves swarming the soil.

My brother and I were outside after dark the other day, to see if any lightning bugs would emerge yet. We had been working on digging the pond. That old soggy spot in the middle of the yard that we called "poor drainage," that always splattered mud over our legs when we ran across it as children—it isn't a failed lawn, and it never was.

Oh, we tried to fill in the mud puddles, even rented heavy machinery and graded the whole thing out, but the little wetland still remembered. God bless those indomitable puddles and wetlands and weeds, that in spite of our efforts to flatten out the differences that make each square meter of land unique from another, still declare themselves over and over to be what they are.

So we've been digging a hole. A wide, shallow hole, with an island in the middle.

And steadily, I've been transplanting in vegetation. At school there is a soggy field that sadly is mowed like any old field. The only pools where a frog could lay eggs are tire ruts. From this field I dig up big clumps of rushes and sedges, and nobody pays me any mind when I smuggle them home.

I pulled a little stick of shrubby willow from some cracked pavement near a creek, and planted it nearby. From a ditch on the side of the road beside a corn field, I dug up cattail rhizomes. Everywhere, tiny bits of wilderness, holding on.

I gathered up rotting logs small enough to carry and made a log pile beside the pond. At another corner is a rock pile. I planted some old branches upright in the ground to make a good place for birds and dragonflies to perch.

And there are so many birds! Mourning doves, robins, cardinals and grackles come here in much bigger numbers, and many, many finches and sparrows. I always hear woodpeckers, even a Pileated Woodpecker here and there. A pair of bluebirds lives here. There are three tree swallows, a barn swallow also, tons of chickadees, and there's always six or seven blue jays screaming and making a commotion. And the goldfinches! Yesterday I watched three brilliant yellow males frolic among the tall dandelions. They would hover above the grass and then drop down. One landed on a dandelion stem and it flopped over. There are several bright orange birds too. I think a couple of them are orioles, but there's definitely also a Summer Tanager. There's a pair of Canada Geese that always fly by overhead around the same time in the evening. It's like their daily commute.

The other day, as I watched, I saw a Cooper's Hawk swoop down and carry off a robin. This was horrifying news for the robin individually, but great news for the ecosystem. The food chain can support more links now.

There are two garter snakes instead of one, both of them fat from being good at snaking. I wonder if there will be babies?

But the biggest change this year is the bugs. It's too early for the lightning bugs, but all the same the yard is full of life.

It's like remembering something I didn't know I forgot. Oh. This is how it's supposed to be. I can't glance in any direction without seeing the movement of bugs. Fat crickets and earwigs scuttle underneath my rock piles, wasps flit about and visit the pond's shore, an unbelievable variety of flies and bees visit the flowers, millipedes and centipedes hide under the logs. Butterflies, moths, and beetles big and small are everywhere.

I can't even describe it in terms of individual encounters; they're just everywhere, hopping and fluttering away with every step. There are so many kinds of ants. I sometimes stare really closely at the ground to watch the activities of the ants. Sometimes they are in long lines, with two lanes of ants going back and forth, touching antennae whenever two ants traveling in opposite directions meet. Sometimes I see ants fighting each other, as though ant war is happening. Sometimes the ants are carrying the curled-up bodies of dead ants—their fallen comrades?

My neighbor gave me all of their fallen leaves (twelve bags!) and it turns out that piling leaves on top of a rock and log pile in a wet area summons an unbelievable amount of snails.

I always heard of snails as pests, but I have learned better. Snails move calcium through the food chain. Birds eat snails and use the calcium in their shells to make egg shells. In this way, snails lead to baby birds. I never would have known this if I hadn't set out to learn about snails.

In the golden hour of evening, bugs drift across the sky like golden motes of dust, whirling and dancing together in the grand dramas of their tiny lives. I think about how complicated their worlds are. After interacting with bees and wasps so much for so long, I'm amazed by how intelligent and polite they are. Bumble bees will hover in front of me, swaying side to side, or circle slowly around me several times, clearly perceiving some kind of information...but what? It seems like bees and wasps can figure out if you are a threat, or if you are peaceful, and act accordingly.

I came to a realization about wasps: when they dart at your head so you hear them buzzing close by your ears, they're announcing their presence. The proper response is to freeze and duck down a bit. It seems like wasps can recognize if you're being polite; for what it's worth, I've never been stung by a wasp.

As night falls, bats emerge and start looping and darting around in the sky above. If the yard seems full of bugs in the day, it is nothing compared to the night.

I'm aware that what I'm about to describe, to an entomophobe, sounds like a horror movie: when i walk to the back yard, the trees are audibly crackling and whirring with the activity of insects. Beetles hover among the branches of the trees. When we look up at the sky, moths of all sizes are flying hither and thither across it. A large, very striking white moth flies past low to the ground.

Last year, seeing a moth against the darkening sky was only occasional. Now there's so many of them.

I consider it in my mind:

When roads and houses are built and land is turned over to various human uses, potentially hundreds of native plant species are extirpated from that small area. But all of the Eastern USA has been heavily altered and destroyed.

Some plants come back easily, like wild blackberry, daisy fleabane, and common violets. But many of them do not. Some plants need fire to sprout, some need Bison or large birds to spread them, some need humans to harvest and care for them, some live in habitats that are frequently treated with contempt, some cannot bear to be grazed by cattle, some are suffocated beneath invasive Tall Fescue, Kentucky bluegrass, honeysuckle or Bradford pears, and some don't like being mowed or bushhogged.

Look at the landscape...hundreds and hundreds of acres of suburbs, pastures, corn fields, pavement, mowed verges and edges of roads.

Yes, you see milkweed now and then, a few plants on the edge of the road, but when you consider the total area of space covered by milkweed, it is so little it is nearly negligible. Imagine how many milkweed plants could grow in a single acre that was caretaken for their prosperity—enough to equal fifty roadsides put together!

Then I consider how many bugs are specialists, that can only feed upon a particular plant. Every kind of plant has its own bugs. When plant diversity is replaced by Plant Sameness, the bug population decreases dramatically.

Plant sameness has taken over the world, and the insect apocalypse is a result.

But in this one small spot, nature is healing...