This morning, on one of my many trips between the shop and the house, I
saw the little dove on my path. There are two or three breeding pairs
that hang out at my place, finding seeds around the flowers, bugs
venturing out onto the pavement and who knows what else in the little
japanese garden. This one was a pretty little female, thin necked with
a delicate beak - a graceful creature.
Normally I just approach one and it’ll fly away well before I get too
close. But this one stood her ground, which caused me to pause, then
stop. Now doves on the ground will freeze as something approaches
them. They will assess the threat and either take to flight or freeze -
normally it’s to flight. Every time I spook one into the air I regret it
- unless there’s a cat stalking it.
Watching her out of the corner of my eye, for looking directly at her
would make her aware I’d seen her and perhaps cause her to fly away, I
felt there was something keeping her earthbound. This little dove was
out on the driveway, no cover anywhere and just sitting there out in the
open. But she didn’t look injured so it had to be something else. I
slowly backed off and had a careful look around.
Sure enough, I found her reason - her baby, now just learning to fly.
Very, very slowly, without looking directly at either bird, I took
another path to the house, smiling. Spring is here and another
generation of doves is learning how to live in this little part of the
planet. The sun’s shining, clouds float by and life is good. My
worries about fitting rub blocks under the screws of the twin screw vise
I’m putting in my bench seem so unimportant. The answer will come in
good time. For now I savor my meeting with the little dove and her baby
and look foreward to hearing their cooing on the way to the shop in the
morning and again in the evening as I return to the house.
Woodworking can narrow your awareness some times - all the details, the
sharp tools, the noise of power tools, the head scratching “now how the
hell am I going to do that?”. Sometimes, god/the universe/nature gives
you a nudge - “Look! Listen! Here’s another wonder to experience, if
And I figured out what I’m gong to do about the rub blocks. Router a
dado on the under side of screws, cut some of the scarps of rosewood I
stashed away to fit and route a half round into the top. A pair of
countersunk screws to hold them in - and make them easy to replace by
the next guy. Should work just fine.
All is right with the world - and progress on The Real Workbench
continues. Life is good.
Bay Area Dave - are you listening? :)