Dove’s Call Welcome As Sound Of Spring

The doves, the lovelorn of the bird world, are at it again, expressing their lament, in sorrowful calls that haunt the twilight.

Well, that’s what it sounds like.

Actually, mourning doves are the same as most other birds. Spring’s arrival means it’s courting time, and the doves’ calls are simply their version of come-hither.

Still, the dove’s courting call is like no other. Male orioles and thrushes and bluebirds and nearly all other birds woo prospective mates with loud, joyous songs. Some have calls that are true music, full of melodic whistles and rising crescendos and lilting phrases.

The dove doesn’t even have a song; it has a melancholy call. Oooah-ooo-ooo. Instead of singing, it seems to be wailing, indeed mourning something. That’s how this bird got its name, mourning dove.

Some doves hang around this region all winter, but are so reticent they are easy to overlook. They patiently wait out the cold and ice and snow in silence. They spend much of their time in pines and bushes at the edge of the woods or in the milder climate along the Snake River.

Even when they’re visiting the feeders they seem unusually mild-mannered. Chickadees jabber and nuthatches repeatedly cry a harsh yark, yark, yark - I’ve never figured out if that means they’re enjoying their meals or they’re complaining about the menu.

The doves simply go to the ground beneath the feeders and pick up seeds kicked out by the other birds. Without a fuss. Without a sound.

If there are any birds that really do act lovey-dovey in spring, it’s the doves. They even start cooing.

When two birds are cozying up to each other, the soft cooing does, indeed, sound romantic. But when a male is up on a wire advertising for a mate, it seems as if he’s already lost the love of his life.

Yet the dove’s call is one of the most welcome sounds of March. That wail carries all sorts of emotions - hope and hopelessness, the need for companionship, an inherent aloneness.