A Mānoa Girl's Bloggie

Our spring was so cool and wet, and once the sun came out, the grasses and weeds absolutely took off running.  Well, okay, growing. It seemed as if they grew a foot a day. Our friend Loren, who has a tractor, planned to come over as he usually does. But then the rains came back, and then the sun, and then more rain; by the time it was dry enough to mow yesterday, the grass and weeds were unbelievably high. We usually get them cut down in May!

This is how tall the grass, weeds, and blackberries were as I drove up.

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Last Friday Nolemana went out to feed the doves in our aviary. He came back into the house with a shocked look on his face. The doves were gone. There were only feathers on the floor of the aviary. Something had somehow gotten into the area and killed them.

I was hysterical. Seriously. Crying. Loud. Yelling. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Nolemana held me and let me cry. And cry.

We thought the aviary was secure, but something had pried up a corner of the wire where it was attached to the wood and gotten in. I was sick. I almost threw up. I couldn’t stop crying. I had to keep my mind from imagining the carnage.

Nolemana has fixed the aviary so that now, nothing can get in. I found a source for some doves and have to wait about a month for the babies to get big enough to be on their own. In the meantime, I hear no cooing during the day or at night. One of my doves loved to coo in the night, and I loved hearing him when I woke up.

I still cry. I know we live in an area with skunks and weasels and possums and raccoons. We suspect one of the first two. It happened in the middle of the night, and I didn’t hear a thing. I’m having a hard time not blaming myself.

Okay pau. No can write nomo.