It was just a brief moment in April when we thought they had left for good. It made me realize that I’d actually miss them when they did go. In reality, they were only gone for about an hour. The babies had merely taken a longer-than-usual stroll, and ducked under a railing that connects to the neighbouring balcony to explore next door.

We were delighted when our little Frankenbirds (as I affectionately liked to call them, with their mismatched-looking wings and fuzzy, clumsy bodies) came back. So did their parents.

As they grew bigger still, they would practice flapping their wings and jumping. They would flap and jump, making it into gradually higher and higher garden pots. Hopping from one pot to the next, they’d reach the peak of pots. Inevitably, they would come down, flapping their wings till they hit the ground with inexpert landings.

They really were quite amusing to watch. I enjoyed very much seeing them learn to fly and practice their new skills every day, within the safe confines of our balcony. They would flap and flap, lifting themselves off the ground, hovering in the same spot for a few seconds before plopping back down again. Like a hummingbird, but not nearly as graceful.

To my own surprise, I actually grew quite fond of them, with their awkward movements and funny antics.

It was a bit like having pets. Three times in the early spring, those silly baby birds managed to overturn a garden pot full of soil and seeds. I caught my husband laughing in an exasperated manner, as he found the upside down pot for the third time. He’d tried to secure it in a way that they couldn’t possibly knock it over. But nope, they did it again. Similar to when puppies or kittens make a mess, one can’t be mad; it’s an animal, and a baby one at that. You just clean up the mess and smile at the mischievous little creature that created it.

One day we decided to clean the area around their nest. No sooner had we cleaned, than the female pigeon laid another egg!

Many times we asked ourselves: what would Amma do? We could not imagine her kicking the pigeons out. Would she allow them to nest in the garden pots? Why not? So the pigeons stayed. Again.

While the parents busied themselves with the new eggs, the first generation of growing babies wandered the balcony. Eventually they’d get right up close to our sliding glass door and windows. They actually knocked on our door with their beaks, as if looking for attention. They watched us with curiosity, just as we watched them.