PORT MORESBY, PNG — I knew they’d be life birds if only I could find them, but I just couldn’t see the calling birds. Where were they? What were they?

I woke suddenly, but the musical calls didn’t stop. Maybe there was still a chance!

Two small doves sat on the wires close to a power pole. I quickly took in their gray, black-barred bodies, including the barring on their necks and upper breasts. Peaceful Doves! One of the birds leaned forward, neck inflated slightly, and then I realized that the doves were the source of the calls I’d heard even before I awoke.

I lingered outside, wishing I weren’t confined by the fence topped with barbed wire — or more precisely, by the concerns that had helped to put it there. The little doves came and went, landing for a few moments at a time on the wires before disappearing again into thick trees across the street.

Once, a pair flew over, and I could see constrasting dark underwing coverts, though against the bright sky I couldn’t discern the reddish color.

Another time, two birds landed together on the wire, and the male (or so I guessed) approached the female, bowing and flaring his tail to expose the white feather tips. He gave a soft, purring coo that rose and fell in pitch, quite different from the endlessly repeated louder calls.

Why were they silent yesterday but so insistently vocal today?

House Sparrows squirmed around in the trees and shrubs, and I saw a Yellow-tinted Honeyeater or two. Torresian Crows honked in the distance, and I saw one flying high and very far away.

Trackback This Post | Subscribe to the comments through RSS Feed