What I Hear When I Wake Up at Home in Antigua
Sometimes I hear a short-lived passing shower of rain. Sometimes, it lasts longer. Either way, when it’s over, I open the windows and breathe in the fresh air. It seems extra delightful when I smell freshly cut grass as if concentrated grass essence is wafting up my nostrils. I hear the garbage truck in the distance when it starts and stops, and the accompanying thud of a garbage container as it lands on the ground. While I hear chirping birds, I also hear some flapping their wings simultaneously as they take off from feeding next door, where they help themselves to a convenient heap of breadcrumbs each day. But distinctly, I hear the doves. I don’t know what the sound they emit is called, but the volume seems to me to be louder than a cock’s crow. One cannot walk through the neighborhood and miss the sounds.
“Father God Send Rain”
I know nothing about ornithology, but I know birds are my favorite creatures. While growing up, little birds used to fly in and out of our windows. I thought they were so pretty, I wanted them to be my pets, but I couldn’t catch them. There were red, yellow, gray, and brown ones. Most of the trees with thorns, especially cassie (acacia), and others like citrus and dums, were dotted with birds’ nests. Every evening, flocks of bigger birds we called garlings (egrets/herons) flew westward. I didn’t know their destination, but one could set a clock by their daily flight. I digress.
The Doves I Hear Emit Two Distinct Tunes
Even though I cannot physically distinguish between the dove species on the island, I perceive two distinct tunes coming from the flocks that live in the trees in the surrounding area. One tune consists of five beats that sound like a haunting plea. (Mind you: This is my perception, only.) Some time ago, I told my sister, Daisy, of what I perceived. Then, she said she learned that the tune with the five beats was interpreted to be the birds pleading, “Father God send rain.” I was incredulous! “Really?” I asked.
“Yes,” she responded, as I wondered who else took time out to listen to wild creatures sending perceived messages.
“That’s what people say,” she continued. Well, I had never heard anyone say that about the doves, before. But it made sense to me. So now I ask myself, “What does the other tune mean?” I imagine the nine beats I hear coming from the other doves should make sense, also.
Enlightenment
Suddenly it occurs to me: The nine beats of the other doves fit the syllables found in the Old Testament, King James Version, of the writing on the wall that Daniel interpreted … That writing is made up of nine syllables. Whenever I hear those doves’ scolding emissions, I hear the words of the Biblical writing echo in my head, and the beats sound similar. This is merely my observation. Here, I end with no interpretation of the birds’ utterances