Canadian Hero ~ A. B. Simpson

Many Canadian young people seem to know more about American history and legends than about some of their own Canadian Heroes. A. B. Simpson is an unsung Canadian Hero who had a remarkable lasting impact on millions of families not only in Canada  but throughout the world.

Simpson was a man of vision. He once said that,

“People must always dream dreams before they blaze new trails

and see visions before they are strong to do exploits.”

Albert Benjamin Simpson was born on Prince Edward Island on December 15^th 1843 of Scottish Covenanter heritage. The Simpson family had emigrated from MorayShire, Scotland to Bayview, P.E.I. After his father's shipbuilding and  export business collapsed in the 1840's depression, his family moved to a farm

in western Ontario. Rev. John Geddi, on his way to the South Sea Islands as Canada's first missionary, baptized baby Albert and committed him to future missionary service.

Fresh out of seminary in 1865, Simpson had accepted the call to pastor Knox Church in Hamilton, a congregation with the second largest Presbyterian church building in Canada. Over the next eight years,  the congregation increased by over 750 new people.  Dr. William McMullen, another Presbyterian minister, said that “Simpson stood out at that time as one of the most brilliant young ministers of our church in Canada...”.

Out of the blue, Simpson was called to lead a Presbyterian Church in Louisville, Kentucky. The recently ended Civil War left bitterness and division between the various churches. As a neutral Canadian pastor, Simpson was used to bringing racial reconciliation and forgiveness among the churches. Simpson with  the pastors prayed for such a baptism of love as would sweep away differences.

From reconciliation among the clergy, came two months of continuous nightly gatherings across the denominations. As the pastors joined their hands together

in unity, over 10,000 local residents joined them in prayer meetings.

Simpson's success led him to being invited to lead 13^th Street Presbyterian Church, a prestigious New York congregation. Simpson loved to reach to those who wouldn't normally feel comfortable in a traditional church setting. When 100 Italian immigrants responded to Simpson's message, he asked his church Board to admit them as new members. His Board “kindly but firmly refused”, for fear of being overwhelmed by immigrants and poor people. Out of rejection came Simpson's vision of a fellowship of Christians where everyone was welcome... regardless of race, income, denomination or social class.

Simpson decided to abandon his security and reputation, in order to start a community where all were welcome in Christianity. He began afresh with just seven other people, in a poorly heated dance hall. But Simpson had recently discovered an inner strength and resilience that kept him from slipping into discouragement. In the past, he had been such a workaholic that he had destroyed his health. Simpson's medical doctor had given him 3 months to live. But upon meeting an Episcopalian (Anglican) physician, Dr. Charles Cullis,

at Old Orchard Camp in Maine, he experienced a remarkable healing
of his heart. The next day, Simpson was able to climb a 3,000 foot mountain and successfully pray for his daughter Margaret's healing from diphtheria ~ the very disease which had earlier killed his son, Melville.

Word spread fast in 1881 of these healings. He was besieged by many with pleas for help. By others, he was vilified and ridiculed as another 'quack-miracle-worker'. Despite such criticism, Simpson received strong support from medical doctors like Dr. Jenny Trout, the first female doctor and surgeon in Canada, Dr. Robert Glover from Toronto and Dr. Lilian Yeomans, a Canadian-born surgeon

in Michigan. He also received much encouragement from well known Canadian Anglican priests like Dr. Henry Wilson and Dr. W. S. Rainford. Simpson started Friday afternoon healing and holiness meetings, which quickly became New York's largest spiritual weekday meeting with 500 to 1,000 attending.

Simpson had a real love for the whole Christian community, regardless of denomination or nationality. He said, “I want to enjoy the broadest fellowship possible myself, and I want my people to receive the benefit of the ministry of all God's gifted servants, regardless of whether they agree with me in everything or not.”

A. B. Simpson had a passion for interdenominational Christian Unity and Missions that is only now beginning to be appreciated by other churches.

Rev. Ed Hird, Rector, St. Simon's Anglican Church in North Vancouver, British Columbia who wrote the foregoing (from which I have taken excerpts) stated,

“I thank God for Canadian heroes like Albert Benjamin Simpson,

who have helped tear down the walls of misunderstanding,

bitterness and mistrust...among and within the churches.”

Every country in this world has “unsung heroes”; this man fron the 1800's has certainly enlightened my thinking. He was aware of indifferences among church-going people; rectifying the situation, he made it a “Better Place for All”!

Merle Baird-Kerr

written August 25. 2011

Irish Blessing

A few months ago, a long time friend sent me this story of a Scottish farmer who became a Hero. As frequently occurs, it is usually an unknown person, and name unrecognizable who unwittingly becomes a “Hero”. I share with you a few incidents...with surprising outcomes!

“True Heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic.

It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost,

but the urge to serve others at whatever the cost.”

(Arthur Ashe)

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.

There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings.

An elderly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

“I want to repay you,” said the nobleman. “You saved my son's life.”

“No, I can't accept payment for what I did,” the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer.  At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

“Is that your son?” the nobleman asked.

“Yes,” the farmer replied proudly.

“I'll make you a deal: Let me provide him with the level of education
my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow
to be a man we both will be proud of.” And that he did.

Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated
from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming...
the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterwards, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog

was stricken with pneumonia.

What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman ~ Lord Randolph Churchill.
His son's name ~ Sir Winston Churchill.

Someone once said, “What goes around, comes around”.

“Work like you don't need the money.

Love like you've never been hurt.

Dance like nobody' s watching.

Sing like nobody's listening.

Live like it's Heaven on Earth.”

(Author unknown)

Merle Baird-Kerr

written August 25, 2011

Noah's Ark . . . Lessons Learned

Recently, Mother Nature  has created freakish acts that she casts upon Earth.  
...from tsunamis to untold  numbers of earthquakes, hurricanes  and tornadoes.
 Sunday, August 21, Goderich, on Lake Huron
was the focus of a wind-gusted tornado
which rose viciously from the lake and devastated
"The Prettiest Town in Canada" ~ as named by Queen Victoria.

                     Perhaps the worst flood on Earth ...was inflicted by God

(through Mother Nature) in Biblical times... which prompted me

          to post this blog about Lessons we Humans can Learn from Disasters.

Picture  an artist's water colour concept of Noah's Ark in the locale of Mount Ararat: It is a grassy  mountain top with a tall tree either side with a bird or two visible. Further down the slope is a scrawny tree with strewn boulders. A whitish halo, edged with a rainbow, surrounds the Ark  from prow to stern.
The Ark is 5 storeys high...the animals two by two leisurely tread from  their decks down the slope, wearing a path through the deep green grass. The sky is bluish-lavender, the clouds white; and for all on board:
                                                This is a New Day!

Everything I need to know, I learned from Noah's Ark!

 ONE: Don't miss the boat.
TWO: Remember that we are all in the same boat.
THREE: Plan ahead.  It wasn't raining when Noah built the Ark.
FOUR: Stay fit.  When  you're 60 years old, someone may ask you
to do something really big.
FIVE: Don't listen to critics; just get on with the job that needs to be done.
SIX: Build your future on high ground.
SEVEN: For safety's sake, travel in pairs.
EIGHT: Speed isn't always an advantage ~
the snails were  on board with the cheetahs.
NINE: When you're stressed, float awhile.
TEN: Remember, the Ark was built by amateurs ~
the Titanic by professionals.
ELEVEN: No matter the storm, when you are with God,
there's always a rainbow waiting.
(Author unknown)

Interesting Facts
Mt. Ararat is located in eastern Turkey
on the border of Iran, Armenia (formerly U.S.S.R.) and Nakchivan.
This volcanic mountain rises 16, 945 feet high
far above the plains that are at 2,000 to 3,000 feet high.

According to the Bible, the global flood occurred approximately
4500 years ago.  The Bible states that the Ark was approximately
450 feet long, 45 feet wide and 75 feet high.
Noah and his family, along with all the animals God directed
to be inhabited and protected ...dwelt for 380 days
before the Ark came to rest in the mountains of Ararat.

(Ararat is derived from the name Urartu, from the Hebrew Torah
written by Moses ~ c.1480 BC.)

Merle Baird-Kerr
written August 22, 2011

“Every seed is awakened and so is all animal life.
It is through this mysterious power that we too, have our being
and we therefore yield to our animal neighbours
the same right as ourselves... to inhabit the land.”
(Sitting Bull)

"Passe" Terms ~ Cars, Stores, Fashions, Etc.

For Old-Timers

Recalling my father's old 1949 Buick, some of you readers

may not understand the descriptive words of autos of that era...
”Fender Skirts”...”Curb Feelers”...”Steering Knobs.”.

Do you remember “Continental Kits”?

When did we stop calling them “Emergency Brakes”?

At some point, 'parking brake' became the proper term.

I'm sad, too, that almost all the old folks are gone

who would call the accelerator the “Foot Feed”.

Many today to not even know what a “Clutch” is

or that the “Dimmer Switch” used to be on the floor.

Did you ever wait at the street for your daddy to come home,

so you could ride the “Running Board” up to the house?

In those days, “Turn Signals” were non-existent!

So easy, to wind down the window, extending your left arm

outside to indicate your intended turn...as done with bicyclists today.

Here's a phrase I heard all the time in my youth, but never anymore...

“Store-Bought”. Of course, just about everything is store-bought today.

It was bragging material to have a “store-bought” dress or bag of candy.

“Coast to Coast” is a phrase that once held all sorts of excitement and now

 means almost nothing. Now we take the term “World-Wide” for granted.

On a smaller scale, “Wall-to-Wall” was once a magical term in our homes.

In the 50's, everyone covered their hardwood floors with...wow...

wall-to-wall carpeting! Today, everyone replaces this

with hardwood floors. Times have changed!

When was the last time you heard the quaint phrase, “In a Family Way”?

It's hard to imagine that the word 'pregnant' was once considered

a little too graphic, a little too clinical for us in polite company,

so we all had to talk about

'stork visits' and being in 'a family way' or simply 'expecting'.

Apparently “Brassiere” is a word no longer in usage.

I said it the other day and the clerk cracked up! I guess it's just 'bra' now.

'Unmentionables' probably wouldn't be understood at all.

Most of those words go back to the 50's, but here's a pure 60's word

I came across the other day, “Rat Fink”. Ooh, what a nasty put-down!

Here's a word I miss ~ “Percolator”. That was a fun word to say.

And, what was it replaced with? 'Coffee-maker'. How Dull!

Food for Thought: Was there a telethon that wiped out “Lumbago”?

Nobody complains of that anymore. Maybe that's what 'castor oil' cured,

because I never hear mothers threatening kids with...castor oil...anymore.

Lastly consider Fashions that are now 'passe'.

“Flapper Dresses” were so popular in “The Roaring Twenties”.

I recall the silk and lisle stockings with “Center Back Seams”

when they were available to purchase.

Fortunately, restrictive “Corsets” were before my day.

For men, there were “Zoot Suits”...

(high-waisted, wide-legged and tight cuffed).

Unknown to me until recently were “Wing Tips”...

men's shoes fashioned with toe caps (often of a different colour)

that come to a point in the center and spread outward to the sides

of the shoe (somewhat resembling wings).

Sometimes these wings were hole-perforated around the wing edges.

Mini Stories from Personal Experience

Every month or two, from spring to late autumn, “The Raleigh Man” (as my mother called him) came to rural communities, especially farms, to sell products from his vehicle that was well stocked. She was always most thrilled to see this salesman as he displayed spices, brushes, soaps, cleaning supplies, simple gastrointestinal problems, skin infections and arthritis), orange juice (similar to Honey Dew), chewing gum, candy and pipe tobacco. To my sister and me, he gave each a bag of candy. However, we detested the cod liver oil, mother insistently gave us daily! Disgusting!

In the late 1980's, and Andrew home from University, my mother's youngest sister passed away. We drove to the the rural community of Norwich, where my Aunt Luella and Uncle Bill lived, to attend the funeral service.
Going to cemeteries has never appealed to me; I chose to show my son the farm where my mother's parents (and her siblings were born and raised)...shot a few pictures of the location and farm structures. Following the “reception” at the church in Norwich, we drove home through Vanessa where my sister and I were born...the first farm my Dad had. We noted the farm across the gravelly/dirt road where my father's oldest brother, Jim, lived and whose daughters and son, my sister and I frequently played. Again, took a few photos of the red brick farm home. En route to Burford, the location of our second farm (and where I was raised until age 18), we discussed the method of “moving” from one farm to another. Yes...my Dad had a car, but would carry little content. He loaded the haywagon with furniture, tools, etc. making three trips...pulled by a pair of hefty horses. The distance was about 15 miles. My son thought this unbelievable!!! 

                                        His comments...remarkable!

“Today we have moving vans or truck rentals for do-it-yourselvers...

for the country's many people 'on the move'. Just imagine, Mom,

50 or 60 years from now, how families will transport their furnishings!”

In those days, due to the inconvenience (and sometimes impossibility) of moving, families often lived their entire lives in one location, as did their following generation. How Dad moved then...is definitely “passe” today!

Of Interest: In Burford, we viewed the Public and High Schools which I attended...also the General Store where I worked on Saturdays for $2.00 a day during my teen ages. At the eastern edge of the village we observed that our 75 acre farm was now a residential development with paved streets. The yellow brick two-storey home now had a handsome addition with an attached garage.

My son was so delighted to see these “sort-of-ancestral-properties”. Upon arrival home, I assembled a small photo album into which I mounted the pictures and gave directions plus hand-drawn-maps to easily locate these rural areas. He now has this album to share with his sister, Marcia. Maybe one day he will take his family on this 'historic drive'. To revisit his great-grandparents' home (George and Lily Stone) ...would be phenomenal! Since then, he has, through research, developed a detailed “Family Tree” which has intrigued him greatly! That he accomplished this, gives me a a great sense of pride!

Just for fun...pass this article along to “others of a certain age”!

Consider this Prediction: 20, 30, 40 years from now...

what we today deem modern technology, fulfilled dreams and lifestyles

(as such that we believe)...will likely then be termed

“Passe”

You can then relate to your grandchildren...about Life in 2001.

Merle Baird-Kerr

written August 16, 2011

Sounds of Nature . . .

“I love to think of Nature as an unlimited broadcasting station

through which God speaks to us every hour if we will but tune in.”

(George Washington Carver)

When the Sun Goes Down ~

Relaxing on your patio or high-rise terrace

with lemonade, frosty beer or wine,

the moon reveals... its silvery self

and you revel...the serenity of the eve.

The humid stillness is pierced...cicadas' deafening calls.

Frogs begin their croaks from nearby ponds,

both lily and algae covered.

Crickets, it seems by hundreds in chorus,

incessantly sing...long into night.

From the branches of stately evergreens

hoot the owls... awaiting their nightly prey.

In the darkness of the woodlands,

wolves, in packs, eerily howl, on their nightly hunt.

“Nature is Man's Teacher.

She unfolds her treasure to his search:

unseals his eyes, illumines his mind, and purifies his heart.”

(Alfred Billings Street)

When Dawn Breaks ~

It's 5:30 AM...dreading the sudden alarm!

The birds cheerily welcome the early morn

with melodious songs among the trees.

(a pleasant awakening to begin the day)

To residents on his farm, the rooster crows.

Mother hen...she happily clucks

laying her eggs in the strawy nest.

To their several goslings,

the geese...gobble,gobble, gobble.

Quack, quack...quacks the duck

...surveying his barnyard home.

Standing in stalls are the cows...

they moo to be fed and to release their milk.

”Look deep into Nature

and then you will understand everything.”

(Albert Einstein)

Savannahs and Jungles ~

The lions roar, protecting pride and lair.

Monkeys joyously screech swinging tree to tree.

With head above water in tropic temps,

the hippopotamus (“river-horse”) bellows... and deep grunts.

Serpents hiss to startle the wary foot.

The chatter-talk of parrots in the rain forests' lush...

so beautiful to see, so colourfully feathered.

Symbol of wisdom in Asian cultures...

the elephant “rumbles” in a ten-octave range

or when adversary-attacking, he loudly “trumpets”!

Subtleties and Senses ~

“Trees are happy for no reason ~

they are not going to be Prime Minister or President;

they are not going to be rich and they will never have a bank balance.

Look at the flowers ~ for no reason.

It is simply unbelievable how happy flowers are.”

(Osho)

The Wind is both gentle and cruel, cooling and frigid.

We love it in summer when zephres waftly blow

to rustle the leaves with nature-coded message.

It may be a gale that's mightily destructive

or advantageous to man's... inventive “wind towers”.

Lightning and Thunder speak of forthcoming rain.

The flashing streaked sky and the big boom noise

are portents of a storm... impending.

We rush for shelter to escape Nature's Act!

The rain patters down...in a sprinkling shower,

dampening the street and refreshing the grass.

It may pour heavily, often clogging city sewers,

yet, benefiting farm crops...arid and thirsty.

The beauty of the rain...oft' a gorgeous rainbow

that speaks from God in the heavens above.

Water, Earth's liquid gold, we frequently disregard.

To survive on Earth, it IS an essential!

How peaceful the lake...how rugged ocean's shore!

Its allure calms turmoils and serenes our mind.

Mesmerized, we are, by waterfalls so scenic

as they tumble and cascade to deep rivers below.

In pioneer days, we depended on Fire

to heat abodes, to cook our hunted food.

Today, we “return to grass roots”... lighting a fire.

We hear the kindling crackling as orange flames ignite it.

The smoke swirls skyward like a signal in the night.

Roasting marshmallows...is an absolute delight!

BBQ's we love and sing by the fire...

as stars up above twinkle and twinkle!

YET, fire mishandled

costs us lives and dense forests destroyed!

(by a careless, a thoughtless and unconcerned deed)

“Adopt the pace of Nature;

her secret is Patience.”

(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

The most peaceful vista, I've experienced

has not an oral sound...yet it speaks in the beauty of its silence.

Lay on a beach and look upward to the sky

or on a rocky ledge , o'erlooking the horizon.

Let go of your troubles, business woes and distress.

“Outside the Box” is where you want to go!

The sky is blue or softly azure-hued.

Uniquely formed clouds drift through the sea

...with destiny unknown...

cotton-ball-puffy, they may be

dramatized 'gainst...their sea-of-blue;

they may be wispy and small, floating slowly eastward.

Oft' they are bustling and crowding, scudding the sky

as a freight train in motion whistles every crossing.

Nature has a talent ~ allows us to imagine

and re-invent out thinking...

uninhibited.

“Look at the trees; look at the birds;

look at the clouds; look at the stars...

and if you have eyes, you will be able to see

that the whole existence is joyful.”

(author unknown)

“Man's heart, away from Nature, becomes hard.”

(Standing Bear)

Merle Baird-Kerr

written August 5, 2011

Time Rolls By . . .

Rockton General Store and Deli

...will close its doors Saturday evening bringing to an end seven decades of tradition in the historic stone structure. The building has housed a store and postal outlet since 1939. Its history as a hotel and tavern dates back to the 1790's. The owners state, “ It's a reality! Everyone is going to the big stores, so what can you do? The little guy can't compete.”

(Rockton is a sleepy little farm village near Highway 8, northwest of Reg. Rd. 5.)

This article in the July 30^th issue of The Spectator stirred memories of several times I deliciously breakfasted there on a Saturday or Sunday morning.

My daughter occasionally rode “Sundash” or “Roadrunner's Sugar” in equestrian shows held at Rockton World's Fair Grounds...across the quiet village street from the General Store. Parents of riders from the stables in Oakville gathered like “family” to enjoy the camaraderie and the friendly atmosphere of this quaint  diner.

Rockton is best known as “The Biggest Little World Fair in the World” ~
held every Thanksgiving weekend. Truly a magnificent farm display...thousands attend yearly ...lured by numerous events: the food venues, the many farm animals, the judging, the fall attractions of spectacular autumn colour and impressive horse shows with many competitors in both hunter and jumper classes. Rodeo events are often featured.

The Diner/General Store in Palermo

I reflect on another significant change. When parents drove riders to Bertin Stables (Oakville) in early mornings to prepare their horses for loading into trailers for out-of-town shows, several parents met at the nearby diner in Palermo along what is now Regional Road 5. Here we coffee'd and chatted while enjoying the Breakfast Special prior to attending the horse show. Now, it is History! Today, Tim Horton's on this site, offers its fare of pastries, sandwiches and TH coffee...and Palermo's little diner is almost forgotten.

The Hamilton-Wentworth Board of Education Building

Of interest to me is this prominent  building located at the corner of Bay and Main Streets. It is a beautiful piece of white civic architecture.  As a teacher, I entered its doors frequently, always admiring this edifice built in 1966. Today, the education business plans to relocate to larger premises on Hamilton Mountain. McMaster University has a vital interest in this location ~ with a plan to demolish the building and construct a new Medical training center. There is a mighty outcry by Heritage people for its preservation... a structure that has become an icon- entry to downtown Hamilton.

The Refrigerator

Years ago, living on a farm until I was 18, we lacked many amenities common to cities and towns e.g. indoor plumbing, central heating, cooling systems and nearby recreation centers. We did have electricity, the privilege of growing vegetables and fruit, the wide open spaces of acreage farmland separated only by fences; we also had several farm animals.

One day my father asked, “Edna, if I buy you a refrigerator, would you make ice-cream for me?” She was delighted and most heartily agreed! Imagine ~ a modern Kitchen Appliance!!!

Cook Books

My Dad loved to eat and greatly appreciated the solid three meals a day my mother prepared... breakfast, dinner and supper. (Because of the daily farm labour, the main course of the day was at noontime.) She was a gifted and talented cook, often creating recipes. She had no Cook Books...all ingredients,  measurements and "know-how" were in her memory bank!

Woodchucks, who constantly burrowed holes for their homes in the ground, were often destructive to crops and low-riding-machinery. So it was, with rifle in hand, Dad accosted these creatures...shortening their life spans. However, one speciality he loved...numerous times he shot a rabbit and joyfully brought it home for my Mom to prepare “Rabbit Stew”! To him, this was a wonderfully delicious delicacy!

I comment here, that whenever we helped Mom in the kitchen, we were directed what to measure and how to prepare the meal. When I was anticipating marriage, she lovingly wrote her recipes and gave them to me in a bound booklet...My Lifesaver!

The Big Depression

After several years of raising cattle, which required twice daily milking, Dad replaced them with a hundred or more Shropshire sheep. My sister and I loved the lambs born each spring, naming each one and identifying them as they grew. He bought a Border Collie puppy, whom we named Billie; he trained her to herd the rams, ewes and lambs. He also bought a duck which my sister and I claimed as “our pet”. Joey was such a joy, humorous in his actions as he quacked, quacked, quacked his territory; he loved the sheep, often resting on their backs while they were asleep.

My parents were married during the depression years when “plentiful” was not often possible. At Christmas we cut a tree from our farm to decorate and had a wonderful dinner. We raved about the preserved vegetables my mother served, potatoes from the cellar which she scalloped, pie of elderberries which she had picked...(with purply-stained- fingers) from nearby wild bushes and kept frozen in the refrigerator's freezer (and of course served with ice-cream which she had perfected). We wondered about the roasted meat...was it turkey? It wasn't beef...and wasn't lamb. Next day we looked for Joey (our pet duck) who could not be found. Dad calmly told us that he had traveled to “duck heaven”! My sister and I cried!

Time Does Roll By...in the Name of Progress

Consider the changes in Communication Systems.

Consider the air planes that long ago broke the Sound Barrier.

Consider the Fashion Industry...even “retro clothing” is again fashionable.

Consider Planetary Exploration...who'd believe Man would land on the Moon?

Consider the great evolution of cars from the Model T Ford.

Consider the Transportation Systems in cities and towns.

Consider the revolution of Housing projects.

The following quote is so significant and so pertinent at this time...we now wonder what "tomorrow holds" and  "what our future will unfold".

"Our days are a Kaleidoscope.
Every instant, a change takes place in its contents:
new harmonies, new contrasts, new combinations
of every sort."  (Henry Ward Beecher) 

Merle Baird-Kerr

(written July 31, 2011)

Nuisance to Miracle (Part IV)

Final Chapter of "My Mourning Doves"

August 29 (Sunday)...continued from Part III

9:15 AM Returning to “my family”, I 'm enjoying delicious peach flapjacks with syrup, sausages and hot coffee, anxiously awaiting today's activity.

A little action from Henry as he extends his wings upward,

performing a little grooming.

Now, standing tall...Heather becomes alert and Papa remains still.

He flexes his wings again...grooms a little more...flexes his wings.

Perhaps he has a burst of energy!

Heather begins her preening...then Henry returns to grooming.

Heather squats comfortably...Henry walks behind Papa and her.

She now flexes her wings upward, then again.

Henry is most anxious to do something!...but grooms a bit more,

then steps forward proudly displaying his 2 inch tail
of brown and white feathers.

Papa remains as still as a statue...and now Heather contemplates.

9:25 AM The moon is now lowered...visible between the wide-spaced 
2nd and 3rd wires from the top.

Heather re-squats while Henry continues to groom...Heather further preens.

Papa is totally unmoved by these proceedings...except for rapid eye-blinking.

She extends her wings upward and flexes them...Henry does likewise.

Then each continues with personal preening and grooming!

Heather earnestly flaps and flutters her wings with rises of 2 inches off the chair.

Henry does the same...showing her how He can now Spring to the Chair Arm!!!

Both are re-fed by Papa briefly.

They shove and push each other for position beside Papa.

They now settle...crouched into the nest.

Now 9:45 AM   These little birds!  When ~ are they going to attempt further little jumps and flight? So much preening and grooming! I need to prepare for my 10 AM Bridge game online.

10:45 AM As “dummy”, I check on my little birds' progress. Papa is on the nest with the two; then at 10:50 they are alone; at 11:08, H and H quiet with one parent who has joined them.

12 Noon....same scenario...on this pale blue cloudless sky day. Heather is very restless...Papa stands and Mama observes patiently from a wire. At 12:25 family is calm. Rosie then soars away on swift wings like an eagle.

12:45 PM Exchange of Parent (hearing the Twitters from my kitchen).

2:00 PM From my computer, the twitters invite me to find Papa with one fledgling in the nest. the other on the chair.

2:15 PM Henry jumps to the chair arm and waits;

Rosie flutters her return and gives each some “energy food”

then stands atop the nest's edge;

Henry and Heather nestle side by side like twins.

2:20 PM Henry is determined to try again...EASILY he reaches the chair arm

and surveys the situation...”What's next?”, he asks...returns to the chair base.

Heather gets her wings in motion...her attempt, a little improved.

Henry is so confident he flies again to the arm...and struts his stuff!

Now it's back to Mama...Heather needs a little rest, crouched in the nest.

Henry is undecided...in the interim, he tends to some grooming;

then nestles beside his sister.

4:45 PM I observe Henry and Heather in this fast deteriorating nest. It's a hot sun and cloudless day. I view only one dove on a far wire.  Family is quiet...I wonder if the day's flying lessons have ended.

7:00 PM Fledglings are crouched together; 3 doves, high-wired, from here scan the neighbourhood.

For Henry, jumping to the chair arm is now a cinch!

Rosie swoops from a nearby roof to the corner rail.

Heather flutters her wings, yearning so much to jump as Henry.

Mama advances to the chair base.

Henry, noticing this, jumps from the arm to get a quick feeding.

Heather waits...pondering her progress.

Henry, proud of his flying achievement,

jumps to the arm once more to savour his new skill.

When he descends, he lands on Mama's back...she is Not Amused!!!

...so quickly twitters away to her high wire.

Seems that Heather, one day younger than Henry

will accomplish tomorrow what he did today!

9:00 PM Now dark outside, except for the city lights and those of vehicles. Yes, a parent is nestled with the fledglings.

11:30 PM All peaceful and silently still;  the night air is cool and refreshing.

August 30 (Monday) HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEATHER!

6:30 AM The darkness of night is waning and the air cool; Rosie and two are cuddly warm.

7:20 AM The musical twitters announce Papa's arrival.

7:30 AM Lovely for a Photo...Papa facing backward, with the 2 horizontal to him, each facing opposite directions. The sky predicts a wonderful-weather-day...pale blue sky with softly floating clouds...the 1/2 moon is unseen.  Bird chatter from the trees ensues with tweet, tweet, tweets  to   ch, ch, ch, ch, ch's to see-ya, see-ya, see-ya and chirpedly, chirpedly, chirpedly...and a chorus of repeats.

7:40 AM Rosie flew the nest with her melodic rapid twitters, wing and tail feathers spread, sweeping over the railing to a new wire, momentarily only, then back in my direction and over the roof tops... I sight her on a hydro wire in the next section of poles...followed with a wide sweep westward over the street...perhaps she is checking the flight paths for safety!

Heather begins her morning beautification ritual.

Rosie settles at last on a high wire near me...then remains poised

...her rosy tinted beige breast, warmed by this early cast of sun
as Papa joins her.

Henry flutters to the chair arm pressed against the balcony uprights

(a new location), then with his trusted skill, flutters across to the other arm.

Heather stands center of chair, flaps her wings

and with a big thrust and with a clumsy-like struggle,

she lands on the arm beside Henry!...Great Success for Her!

Henry hops down to the chair seat, then does a “repeat performance”.

Heather hops down to the chair seat...considering a 2^nd attempt.

With wing and tail energy, she reaches the arm

with feet sliding to a stop on its smooth surface!

SURPRISE: Henry leaps from this arm to the top of the long railing!!!

Heather remains on her "flight achievement"!

(The parents leave the wire...satisfied with their offsprings' Success.)

7:58 AM Papa flies in...to the back railing which triangle-forms.

He at the apex, Henry on the balcony railing, Heather still positioned

on her Arm of Accomplishment!

Papa flutters down to the chair and feeds Henry with great thrusts;

then all is quiet...both H and H crouch into a cosy position...

their tails prominently displaying dark browns and white feathers.

Seems their tails are at least 2 1/2 inches in length now...

I fathom at their growth in these 2 weeks.

8:05 AM Another “practice jump" to the chair arm (Henry).

Both fledglings are anxious.

Heather tests her skill with jump to the Arm and succeeds.

(They return to Papa...it is apparent that Henry plans to attempt something!)

He puffs and ruffles these wing tips (sort of pine-cone shaped).

Papa and Heather are very quiet and calm.

Henry crouches on this Arm forever, it seems.

8:25 AM I must tend to a few household tasks.

(Henry has held this Arm position for 20 minutes without a move.)

8:50 AM It is Papa plus the 2 who”Preen and Groom”.

(I occasionally check the scene...no change.)

10:05 AM From inside I hear the usual Twitter, Twitters...

realizing that Papa has left...perhaps Rosie returned...

I go to have a look...only Henry and Heather are present.

10:30 AM I hear, Twitter, Twitters again...unable to check at the moment.

11:45 AM ONLY HEATHER...SITTING ON THE ARM...

LOOKING SO DESOLATE AND LONELY!

“Oh, Where, Oh Where have they Gone?”

12:10 PM SHE'S GONE...EMPTY NEST!

I check at 12:45 PM and again at 1 PM...I glance everywhere...on the driveway below...(no bodies)...to the wires that Papa and Rosie so frequented...I listened for “Twitters”. I conclude that They Must Be Safe...Somewhere! I feel saddened...yet so pleased to have observed these babies when hatched...then matured within two weeks to these adorable FLEDGLINGS!

Research tells me that they may return to the nest from time to time...up to 30 days of age...until they master the Art of Flying!

August 31 (Tuesday) 5:15 AM 2 Doves on the wires...then 3

5:30 AM Only 1 remains

5:45 AM 3 appear...2 smaller ones...is this My Family?

5:50 AM An adult “twitters off” then one small one gone; the remaining dove remains 5 minutes more.

6:00 AM From the roof line above, came a Dove to my front rail; looks smaller than adult size...is it Henry or Heather? At 6:15 AM flew off to join others.

6:18 AM A visiting Dove to the back railing sat perched for several minutes...perhaps a young male searching for a “mate-nest”. Still observing him, as time indicates 6:30...he appears to be decision making! He steps forward to the nest to investigate(?) His habits are not those of My Doves.  He flutters back to the chair arm, then a short flight to the railing. Sitting on small pink feet, he nervously looks around ...then side-steps along the black railing to the corner. His head jerkingly moves from side to side.. spreading his wings and tail, flies off to the lower tree branches.

September 1 (Wednesday) 6:30 AM Just wondered if any of my Mourning Dove Family overnight-ed in their raggedly, almost dilapidated nest. Two doves were perched about 30 feet apart on the lower telephone wires across from my balcony. They remain for about 15 minutes before swooshing away over the treetops. There are several neighbouring twitters as they soar with spread wing and tail feathers. The numerous trees, the residential homes, the telephone and hydro wires along the bike-path...all are welcome invitations to “home-nest” here!

The day is calm; the sky of grayish-blue, this early morn;

the small soft white clouds delicately pink-fringed float ever so lazily

...all deliver a morning message ~

This is a New Day! A New Life!

Another Day to Experience! Another Day to Enjoy!

....................................................................

September 22 (Wednesday) 8:45 AM I open my patio door...wondering if I had any balcony visitors during my vacation in Tennessee. Three doves are perched on nearby telephone and hydro wires...then another three-group on lower wires. Are these Mine? I photo them as they are spaced 7-8 inches apart...no twitters, no “bird talk”. One preens/grooms its feathers. At 9:05 one flies to the East and at 9:15, another swooshes eastward; a couple others arrive . A few sparrows do a fly-by...three or four perch on wires for a brief morning chat.....C'est la Vie!

Throughout this Odyssey, I have experienced and learned much

about the Relationship between Humans and Mourning Doves.

THE HUMAN TOUCH

During “pregnancy” the Parents share the Time and Effort

to bring the Babies into fruition.

They feed their young with “milk” to nourish them for their start in Life.

They provide Shelter (from the Storm) and Care for their Family

with whatever means they have.

They care and Protect their Young to help them prepare

for a Life Beyond the Nest...

often “pushing them out” to Fly on their Own.

               It is a Story of Affection, of Peace in a harsh Landscape.

               It is a Story of Violence in often a World of troubled people.

               It is a Story of Love and Devotion to One's Partner.

               It is a Story of Love for one's Offspring.

               It is a Story of Love and Life Lost.

               It is a Story of Grief, Sadness and Sorrow.

               YET, One of a New Life, Rebirth

               and a Story of Gentleness...

               (as told by Papa and Rosie Dove, Henry and Heather Dove).

“The Mourning of the Dove

reflects the hidden emotions stored within...

how you perceive its sound...

often reflects the experiences

we are playing out in Life!”

Merle Baird-Kerr

written September 22, 2010