In 1915 a report of nesting passenger pigeons came from southern Quebec, and it took years to correct the story to the birds actually being the almost as rare mourning dove. Since the early 1960s, when these factors began to come into play, the doves have been increasing their population by about 10% every decade.ĭuring the beginning of this surge in population there were several miscalls on identification, as the legends of the somewhat recent extinction passenger pigeons (1912) were still warm memories to some. Research from those who study such things shows that mourning doves have taken advantage of a few factors: milder winters, increased corn production, and the proliferation of winter bird feeders. This clearly shows that these doves have increased their presence both seasonally and population wise. The second edition of The Atlas of the Breeding Bird of Ontario (2001 -2005) has data to show that you have a 94 percent chance of seeing a mourning dove should you go looking for one. Nowadays it is unusual if there are only three birds in a cornfield. Devitt’s 1967 book, The Birds of Simcoe County, mourning doves were considered at that time a migratory bird that rarely overwintered here, with noteworthy observations from the winter of 1939-40 of three birds in a cornfield near Midhurst. This species is one that has an interesting history in regards to its presence in Simcoe County. So instead of being labeled as a ‘good morning’ dove, they have been saddled with that very dark Victorian tone of a moniker. They are well named, as their pigeon-like cooing sounds an awful lot like a person mourning someone near and dear recently deceased (probably didn’t go see the family doctor as suggested). Just as the spring calls of crows, chickadees, nuthatches and cardinals foretell of warmer weather fast approaching, so too does the incessant sobbing call of the mourning dove. No, this time the sounds were coming from the nearby grove of pine trees, and hearing this call actually made me happy. But this time it wasn’t coming from me (I’ve learned to moan and groan silently elsewise someone near and dear to me will suggest I go see the family doctor). As I shoveled the snow off the deck once again, moaning and groaning sounds seemed to echo throughout our valley.
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