Page 163 - Dark Matter Issue5 Part II

to me. Now, at age 45, someone, a scientist no less, actually believed me. I was

stunned.

Meanwhile my life with Lily B continued to amaze me and I continued to record it. When

Lily was about five years old I noticed that he began to sing a plaintive new song to the

mourning doves outside our house. This song upset me because I felt his distress

resonating through my body. That Lily needed a mate seemed obvious. One day he

sailed out the door to chase mourning doves. After the shock wore off I felt deeply

conflicted; on one hand I was afraid I’d lost him, but on the other I loved the idea that he

was truly free. He spent six weeks in the trees flying after one mourning dove or another

but was never able to convince a female to join him. His loneliness broke my heart.

Curiously he rarely left the yard and every morning he sang up the sun from a lilac bush

outside my window. One day I was leaving for work when he flew into a young apple tree

just as I was walking to the car. Astonished, I turned around and opened the door to the

house, inviting him to come home, and immediately he flew in of his own accord.

We spent the following winter in Tucson, Arizona. By accident or design I met a woman

who had many doves in an outdoor cage and she invited Lily to join her crowd. By then I

knew that he had to choose a mate. After being in the cage for about a half an hour, he

chose Fey, a pure white dove. After the two came home they were inseparable. I was so

happy for Lily B! Although he continued to read my mind on a regular basis, making his

comments in triple calls, I did note that the bond between us seemed less intense. I

accepted the loosening of ties gratefully because my beloved bird was clearly ecstatic.

Driving back east the following spring with Lily B and Fey perched on a cholla branch in

the back seat, we stopped in Indian country for a break. As soon as I opened the car

door, Lily B flew out into one of the thick pines... Horrified, I stood there dumbly for a

moment. Then a clear thought materialized through thin air: Lily was gathering sticks for

a nest. I sat down in the red sand and waited quietly. Within minutes he returned with a

mouth full of sticks and sailed through the open car door. Fey was waiting. She pulled a

few bits of grass from his mouth placed them on the sheet that covered the baggage

below their perch. Lily followed suit and I immediately collected bunches of grasses and

small twigs and left them on the back seat to add to Lily B’s offerings. A nest appeared

by the end of the day. By the time we returned to the east Fey had laid two eggs.