RobArt Penguin

It’s usually inevitable in Chicago, the bitter cold comes. One day, I think it got down to minus thirteen without the windchill. I was out doing errands in this bitter cold and when I came home, I noticed a Mourning Dove crouched on the driveway. It was all puffed up to keep warm. It didn’t move when I got out of the car, so I thought it was sick. I knew it was alive because it turned its head to keep watch on me as I moved near it. I got pretty close and it kept still. It remained very close to the door. When I opened the garage door, it flew away and seemed quite healthy. I concluded it was huddled by the door to take advantage of warmth that seeped under the door. Even in extreme cold, the garage never gets below the mid twenties, which must have seemed balmy to the bird. It almost makes me want to make a warming shack for the birds, but I suppose they’re adapted to this weather. I’m not–and am grateful my house is warm and I don’t have to huddle by the garage door.