A Dozen Mourning Doves

For Christmas I am celebrating with some beer. To get it I walked to the "Beer Garden". On the way there I was walking past an apartment building when I saw a group of a dozen mourning doves and they flew from the ground up into a fire escape on the side of the building with so many curtained windows. As they flew they all chanted their lonely dirge. "Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo." as only they can sing. I was so happy I shouted out something in joy. I forget exactly what I cried out, something like "what beautiful birds." A man was walking by, who seemed like a drifter and he smiled at me and said "aren't those birds wonderful?" And I said, "Yes, they are." And he walked away. I was happy and he seemed happy to see me happy.

A half a mile later I found the "Beer Garden" and went inside. I wanted a four pack of Duvel. I found it and purchased it. I had to wait for a woman who was buying Christmas scratch-off lotto tickets and a six pack. Expensive, but a treat for once a year.

Walking back I got to the apartment building where the birds were and they were still there on the fire escape, trying to keep warm in their feathers shivering with their heads pulled inside their bodies. I stopped and looked at them again. They are so  very beautiful. I smiled. On the way there and home I thought of how wonderful God is and I thought about someone and thought that I hoped I would see them in heaven together with God. After all the sorrows have melted away like wax before the flame. Mourning doves are my favorite birds. Turtle doves.

When strangers speak to me I take it as a sign. The man knew about life. He was awake. I find homeless people know the most. And drifters. And saints.

Mourning doves and sparrows. Grackles and crows. As if they are signs.