Each morning, sunny or grey, I hear the call of our resident mourning dove. Generally it isn't hard to locate him. He is the normal slate gray in color with the black spots, a longish tail feather. Sizewise he is a bit on the plump side, which makes us think he is probably male.
Definitely not shy. This friendly bird will talk with my husband, who understand dove, answering the cooing call back and forth. We hear him on all sides of our farm and often find him perched on the top of our big swing set in our back yard. Another perch is the top of our loafing shed, across the highway that runs through our farm. He has a little catch in his throat on occasion, so takes a breather and then repeats with more gusto.
He calls off and on, all day long, until dark descends. The next morning the coo-coo, coo, coo comes drifting into our open windows and helps me want to start the day. I listen for him all through my day, indoors or out. I hope he can feel how much he is appreciated.
