The Story of How the Turtle Dove Got It's Name
for my beautiful wife,
I Love You
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The Story of How the Turtle Dove Got Its Name. Copyright © 2015 by Jay Mathis Horne. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work in any form whatsoever, without permission in writing from the author, except for brief passages in connection with a review.
Cataloging Publication Data
Horne, Jay M., 1980-
The Story of How the Turtle Dove Got Its Name / Jay M. Horne
ISBN: 978-1508445258
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The Story of How the Turtle Dove Got Its Name
There once was two mourning doves. They listened to everyone chatter as they passed, and frequently caught the couples pointing in their direction exclaiming,
“Look at those two lovebirds.”
But the doves were not truly in love. It only looked like the doves were fond of one another for each bird was but trying to stay warm among lofty branches.
The female dove watched keenly, the passerby’s—she took joy in it. It is what helped pass the time while she tended her hearth.
She laughed when a short, fat man pulled on the sleeve of his much taller wife’s blouse and exclaimed,
“look at the two lovebirds!”
and it tickled her to watch as a pretty little woman with a ghastly brute of a husband, coaxed the loathsome man to observe them on her perch as ‘lovebirds’.
The male dove, on the other hand, grew tired of always being called a lovebird and flew away constantly, only returning when he became far too cold.
Thus, the two mourning doves—so called for they are mournful—could not love one-another, yet were so alike.
But, one day she observed two turtles down in the water at the edge of the pond.
The two seemed to carry their homes with them and often stayed inside alone. Only coming out to offer a kiss to one another. She became captivated by the turtle loves.
The turtles, she found, were in no hurry to get anywhere, content inside themselves, but also in love with one another. Two creatures, so alike, and so in love.
This gave her hope.
She mimicked the couples who proclaimed that they were ‘lovebirds’, and pointed out the turtles to the male dove.
Infuriated the male dove flew away in the cold.
She waited. Bundled deep into her feathery breast... but he did not return.
Loathe for a partner she scanned the distant shore, and marking a solitary turtle who wandered there—she correctly reckoned to herself, inside of the wet and musty shell would be miserable all alone.
She then took flight and, in a second, plucked the lonely creature from the mud and lofted him unto her nest, which lie cradled in the ancient Birch’s elbow.
The turtle awoke to a warmth he had only known to exist inside of himself. But here it was all around. It enveloped him like a swaddled baby in Mother’s arms.
The turtle was happy to find that the warmth he had only known as his sole possession had a name.
And it was called Love.
In time, the dove taught the turtle to perch beside her on her branch. Though the turtle found it a very difficult thing to do—with his flat feet and thick toenails—with practice he eventually found it easier to totter, and then, with time, he could hold firm to the branch.
However, he remembered the time it took him to learn such balance, and the muddy past that lie below.
The turtle knew that the passerby’s only gawked at the beautiful dove upon the branch as they strolled. Who would believe they saw a turtle in a tree,
that would be preposterous!
But, every once in a while a child would come by, holding hands with their mother or father and point.
“Mommy look! A turtle dove!”
The turtle would chuckle and know that the adult saw only the bright feathery white of his love.
In time, Turtle and Dove’s offspring came to the cradle, each the color of a white-hot desert sun.
Upon gazing at the soft downy of the babes they both knew that the light of love was pure white.
THE END
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