Doves

When Nigel and I were courting, I had a room up in the attic of Girton College.  From my window we could look out on the red-tiled roof and see a little bell tower. 

I do not know what the bell was for – I never heard it rung.  But I remember that on the tower strutted and preened a pair of white doves. 

We delighted in their affectionate billing and cooing over the months I inhabited the room.

The birds seemed like mascots for our own courtship.

When we married, the invitations bore doves and it was a dove that I embroidered on my wedding dress.

That was thirty years ago.

But recently, we moved into our new house. 

On the first day here, I spotted a white dove on the roof opposite. 

By the next day there were two.

Now, they parade up and down the ridge of the house several times a day; they bond by touching their bills together.

One is supposed to celebrate the thirtieth wedding anniversary with pearls, but we are celebrating it with pearl-white doves instead.