Their parents moved in several weeks ago--a pair of busy Mourning Doves. The male was busy chasing the female and the female was busy running away from the male. I didn't blame her: I mean, the dude didn't believe in foreplay!
Soon the female gathered an odd assortment of twigs, lavender and tinsel, which she called a "nest". It was perched precariously atop one of our exterior lamps, so I called it an "accident waiting to happen". In it she laid two eggs which hatched and grew into these fuzzy guys.
Then one of the chicks rolled out of the nest. It slid off the lamp and fell 10 feet to the ground! Amazingly it was still alive when Mr. Wonderful picked it up and returned it to its perch.
Then Mr. Wonderful did what he did best: home improvement... of the nest. He built a mini support fence to keep the chicks from sliding off. He even painted it a discreet brown to mimic a tree.
Soon the chicks grew up and flew away, in no small part to the best fixer upper on the block.
Mr. Wonderful was thorough, good and a softie for chicks. And this girl chick was thankful.
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