Also invariable present at some indefinable distance are the mourning doves whose plaintive call suggests irresistibly a kind of seeking-out, the attempt by separated souls to restore a lost communion:
Hello… they seem to cry, who… are… you?
And the reply from a different quarter. Hello… (pause) where… are… you?
No doubt this line of analogy must be rejected. It’s foolish and unfair to impute to the doves, with serious concerns of their own, an interest in questions more appropriate to their human kin. Yet their song, if not a mating call or a warning, must be what it sounds like, a brooding meditation on space, on solitude. The game.
~ Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire
Notes: Related posts from Edward Abbey: Desert Solitaire