As winter sets in, birdsong nearly disappears, replaced by the harsh calls of crows, magpies and hawks and the hooting of owls. The mellow tunes of spring are generally not expected for several months.
Over the past few days, however, I have noticed the welcome song of mourning doves, often wafting through the neighborhood before sunrise. Triggered by the lengthening hours of sunlight, their hopeful tune may seem out of place amidst the harsh winter weather.
But the seasons are a continuum, not defined by dates on the human calendar. Great horned owls are already nesting and the early bulb plants will push through the chilly soil within a couple of weeks. The mourning doves do not "know" this but they certainly sense the coming change and are kind enough to spread the news.
