Life through the eyes of a dove must be strange. We walk around contemplating our own decisions, day in and day out, what to make for dinner, what to say to our loved ones, while this little bird perched on a fence sees our movement. A black comedy film with a very similar title asks just this question, what must it be like for this little bird friend to be looking at us?
What must be going through its head as it saw me coming closer with my camera, trying to take photographs of it? The strange little creature came closer, with its black toy. But the mind of our little dove friend does not work with the same conceptual frameworks as our own. The philosopher Wittgenstein famously said that even "if a lion could speak, we could not understand him". Basically coming down to the same conclusion: because we do not "share a world" it would not be able to understand us, nor would we understand him. This little dove contemplating life, looking at me, would not even begin to understand the existential thoughts we have, nor would it even understand our daily hustle to just not think about the atrocities that happen around us.
And yet, it seems so simple to think about the fact that it must have its own crisis and existential anguish. The fact that doves are notorious for their bad next building, I can only imagine the existential anguish it feels after an egg rolls off the balcony on which it tries to build its nest. If I only added another damn stick. Its eyes tell another story, those dark and deep black eyes have seen it all. The horrors of war, the chaos that constantly unfolds. It has seen it all.
Yet, it sits calmly on the fence, contemplating existence and some more. It looks at me, this strange creature with its black toy going clickety-clack, and in that brief moment it must feel like we share the same world, that we can combine our feelings into a cohesive statement: life is absurd. But a fleeting moment it was because it soon flew away, probably in search for food or to search for the nest it built by using two or three sticks.
It is funny how we totally overlook the beauty of the dove. It is such a beautiful bird in its own right. I am always searching for the sugar birds or the cuckoos, but even the dove has its own place in nature, albeit a bit overpopulated in the neighbourhoods. Beauty is sometimes hidden behind simplicity.
Happy birding and keep well.
All of the writings are my own, unless stated otherwise or hyperlinked. The photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Tamron 300mm zoom lens.