For the past couple of months, Alex has been marveling at the birds that have been visiting the area and especially enjoying the ones that he can watch right off of our porch. We’re on the 2nd level, so we have a bird’s eye view of the birds. We’ve been visited by pairs of green parrots, a woodpecker, and an endless supply of more common small blackbirds coming to steal the dog food. The most astonishing visit was when we spotted 2 doves, who we named Seῆor and Seῆora Paloma, that seemed to be moving in.
While we were on vacation in El Salvador, Seῆor and Seῆora Paloma had selected their new home site in the avocado tree growing up the corner post of our deck, roughly 4 feet from the railing. We watched as Seῆora Paloma built her nest out of twigs carefully selected by the Seῆor from nearby roofs and trees. He’d pick one up and seem to analyze whether it would be acceptable to the Seῆora, then would either accept it or look for a better one. Soon, Seῆora Paloma was settled in on her nest for the long haul while Seῆor Paloma, whose job was apparently complete, disappeared, never to be seen by us again. Just like a man – sigh.
We kept a close eye on Doῆa Paloma (who earned an upgrade in title out of respect for her diligent attention as a single mother). We tried to spy some eggs – was there one, maybe two? It was difficult to ascertain the number of eggs as Doῆa Paloma never left her nest, but merely turned around every once in a while, especially if she felt the need to keep an eye on the two of us. We were concerned about her because she was so close to the porch. We had ample opportunities to reach over the railing and grab her out of the nest while we were out hanging laundry on the clothesline we strung 4 feet above the porch railing. How safe was she really in that avocado tree, especially when she closed her eyes each night for some shut-eye once the sun went down?
Happily convinced that we would one day see little birds in the nest, we pointed Doῆa Paloma out to the girls downstairs. “You need to give her a better name,” admonished Doῆa Lolita, the matriarch of the household, “Something pretty, like Chanel (the name of the dog, named after Coco Chanel).” “Okay,” I said to indicate that I would do my best. I wasn’t too excited as I really like the ring of Doῆa Paloma and have enjoyed calling her by name when I passed by to see her. Later, when relating the story to Hallie, she suggested Ramona (her class is currently reading “The Mouse and the Motorcycle,” so Beverly Cleary might be on her mind). Doῆa Ramona Paloma had the appropriate ring to it, so at last the bird had a full name, although by Honduran standards, she really should have had at least two other names in her repetoire.
The next morning, the inevitable happened. Alex did his now daily routine before we left for school and walked to the end of the porch to check on Doῆa Ramona Paloma. The nest was upturned and she and her eggs were gone. A few stray feathers still wafted around the porch floor. What could have happened?!
We suspect the cats. We have numerous stray cats that wander past our door to access neighboring rooftops and, at times, pee on Alex’s shoes should he forget to put them away for the night. One even had 2 kittens in the peak of the roof of the house just below us, quickly losing one to Chanel who appeared to think it was her new, mobile stuffed toy that was meant to be gnawed and shaken. Did mama cat brave the short jump from the porch to the branch holding Doῆa Paloma and her nest? Or was it one of the bigger cats? Why didn’t we hear anything? Are we (and Doῆa Paloma) such heavy sleepers that we couldn’t hear the cat on the prowl? We broke the sad news to Hallie and the ladies downstairs, then headed off to school, briefly mourning our loss, but not feeling too sad as that is the way of nature (and Chanel has already gotten revenge on the cats).
The strange part of this story came later that morning. I had to visit Gilda, our landlady, for some school related item. “Don’t worry about the paloma,” she consoled me, “Lolita called to ask me to tell you that Doῆa Paloma has moved her nest. She saw her in another tree in the yard.” “Oh, okay,” I said, baffled, “Muchas gracias.” Doῆa Paloma rebuilt her nest someplace else and then moved her eggs, mysteriously leaving small feathers on the porch in the process? Even more mysterious is that we have not seen any doves around the yard since the fateful day of the destruction of Doῆa Paloma’s nest. Hmmm… Hallie, Alex and I all agree that they made up this story so that we wouldn’t be sad at the demise of Doῆa Paloma and her egglings.
As a way of explanation for this unusual story, I offer the book I am currently reading, “Foreign to Familiar” by Sarah A. Lanier. In it, she explains the difference between hot- and cold-climate cultures. “Hot-climate cultures are relationship based” and “communication must create a ‘feel-good’ atmosphere,” she states. In “cold-climate cultures,” on the other hand, “communication must provide accurate information.” Hallie, Alex and I, being from a cold-climate culture, were coldly addressing the facts and looking for the accurate answers to the disappearance of Doῆa Paloma. The ladies downstairs, however, were just trying to make us feel better.
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