Mourning Doves in Over the Rhine

Since returning from San Francisco last week, I’ve been enjoying the presence of two mourning doves outside my apartment.

There are very few trees where I live in Over the Rhine (downtown Cincinnati), so I’m surprised that any birds are nesting nearby. But this cute monogamous pair seems like they’ve settled in for the season since I keep hearing them each day.

To be clear, I am not a naturalist. I can’t identify even the most common trees or flowers, and my mother is frequently dumbfounded at my blatant ignorance of Midwestern flora and fauna.

I’ve also openly admitted in business meetings that I do not like flowers, puppies, or babies. People move a little further away from me after such statements—and I do of course exaggerate, but not by much.

So I don’t know why I’m charmed. I have no interest in birds. But every morning as I wake up, I wait to hear their little call outside my window. It’s an irrational comfort and friendly presence that feels like a blessing and hopeful sign—although of what I don’t know.