Watching a pair of mourning doves, “He’s an odd one, Mr. Marley, those feathers so dirty and beaten. I suppose even his wife is repulsed at times, but she stays. I guess that’s the way of birds.”
The two elderly bird watchers continued down the path, once in a while nudging each other to raise their binoculars. Time weighed heavily on the two gentlemen, but enjoying a trip outdoors was always a treat. Neither man liked sitting at home conversing with their wives and a walk in the meadow was a relief.
Spotting the raven picking at carrion on the path was not such a beautiful sight, but Mr. Marley seconded his companion’s thoughts, “that’s the way of birds”.