Yesterday I was minding my own business, weeding at the time, when two large shadows fell over me as I worked on a sunny patch of weeds.
The shadows spoke in familiar voices, "Hi Jeff!" they said in unison. It was Bill and Bob.
Bill and Bob are former barstool anchors from my Anchor Pub days in Everett. After the bar went broke they wandered off on to other things, like doing some environmental investigative reporting for the Everett Hairball newspaper ("news the Herald won't cough up), of which I was the editor-in-chief , or whatever, at the time.
"OK guys, how did you find me out here?" I asked. Here being Cape George - a neighborhood overlooking Protection Island - just outside of Port Townsend.
"Well, last time we saw you, we put a GPS tracking device on Maroon", said Bill. Maroon is my little truck.
"I guess, if I'm gonna be stalked, I'm glad it's by you two. What's up?" I asked. Bob whipped out a business card. "Hey, check out our new biz" Bob said. "We're in wetland restoration now".
The card read "Edgy Sedges Wetland Restoration: Bill and Bob proprietors ". "Hey, that's great guys", I said. "Hows business?"
"Well, it's a little slow to start" Bill said, "but hey, check out our 'Spruce Up Your Swamp Special' - happening now!" Aw, the guys know me so well. I'm a real sucker for a spruce swamp. Can't afford one right now though.
Just then a nearby Scots Pine filled up with a flight of large beige birds. "Whoa!" we all exclaimed. They were Eurasian Collared Doves. I've seen these birds here and there over the years, but never more than a pair at a time. We were now looking at about 20 of the large beauties, who were obviously about to take over the yard owner's bird feeders.
"Looks like a coup to me" Bob Remarked.
"Did you say coo?" Bill asked.
"Yeah, like a dove takeover" We'd heard the stories, but now the coup was happening right before our eyes.
"I've seen the future, and the future is colored beige. That's kinda funny somehow" Bob said.
So there we were trying to count big beige doves, when Bill noted " Hey, counting coup, wasn't that the deal where American Indian warriors would go up and tap the enemy without anybody being killed? Kind of a brave thing to do?"
"Yeah, well maybe" Bob replied, "but in this case I think what is needed is eating coo, not counting coup. Know what a Peregrine Falcon call's a coo? -- Yummy. This neighborhood could use a few falcons." Though not a gun guy, I am an omnivore, and have thought of eating one of these chunky doves myself if I could manage to catch one.
Then the flock of doves flew off, leaving just one behind, which was cooing loudly. Off in the distance a California Quail was calling it's "Chi-ca-go" call.
"You know, that Dove kinda sounds like that Quail - if the Quail was blowing through one of those Japanese bamboo flutes" Bill remarked. " The coo has sort of that breathy Shakuhachi sound, sorta".
"Yeah, I kinda think I hear what you mean'", Bob said.
Well, whatever.
Jeff GibsonnearPort Townsend Wa