This Old Tree of Mine; Winter Kills

This old tree of mine has called to her branches the flying souls seeking refuge during this killing season, as she has for so many years now.

I have six large ducks in the yard, so there is always extra grain and seeds around for the smaller more delicate of nature’s birds, and all species share in the bounty,

This year I see the same sparrows and the chickadees, too many to count, and every year my mated pair of doves come home from whatever journey they have been on, whatever lands they hail from, they always come home.

When I awoke today I noticed one of the neighborhood’s feral cats sitting in a pile of red under Patience’s trunk, I did not rush out, whatever was done was done and I allowed the cat some time with its kill before my dog chased it off the property.

I looked at the remains and held back a tear when I realized it was one of the doves, one of the doves that have called Patience home for over 5 years, and so I picked up the remains and tossed them over the fence, allowing the cat its prize away from my view.

I cannot blame the wild cat for this tragedy, I cannot blame the dove for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I cannot blame the fates for leaving a solitary dove waiting on a branch for a mate that will never return, I believe it is the male that is waiting, maybe waiting for the same cat to need a meal tomorrow, but I can blame nothing, for Winter Kills


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