This is the view from my lounge (living room) as I’m sitting on the sofa; through the big picture window I see a lot of sky, and the tops of my neighbours’ houses. Lots of different birds use those the houses’ ridgepoles as a stopping-off point: perching, strutting, sunbathing, arguing. We have crows, magpies, blackbirds, and wood pigeons. I hate wood pigeons.
Well, really, what I hate is mourning doves. A) they are really, really dumb. They nest on the low branches of trees; you can walk right up to them and they don’t move – just sit there, staring at you blankly, almost begging to be picked off; and B) they have that dreadful, haunting, bloody repetitive, mournful ‘hoo hoo hoo’ call. I’ve read that some people find their call calming. Calming? Calming? They go on and on, cooing and hooing, and just won’t bloody shut up. I’ve never been hunting, but seriously, that’s one wild animal I have thought about killing. Frequently. And the British wood pigeon sounds much like the North American mourning dove.
On July first, when I had all my decorations on display, my neighbour from across the street came over sporting her wee Maple Leaf pin to wish me a Happy Canada Day. I invited her in for a coffee and we sat in the front room on my sofa, chatting. She could see her house and chimney (which I believe is still a functioning chimney over the fireplace) and at one point we saw some wood pigeons land on her aerial. “God, I hate those things”, she said. “They sit on top of my roof and make that stupid cooing, and it echoes down into my lounge.” We commiserated on how annoying we both find them, and then moved on to some of the birds we do like: robins, wagtails, blue tits.
Well, now, every time I see pigeons on June’s chimney, I can’t help but imagine her sitting in her lounge in an easy chair, with a cup of tea and the crossword, with 20 minutes worth of the echo-y, amplified, ever-persistent cooing of a half dozen of those twits who are perched 12′ above her, pouring down out the fireplace, driving her absolutely mad. I do feel bad for her.
And I shouldn’t laugh.