I wonder how many coincidences we notice during a day’s time.

Amid all the disruption in today’s world, an upside to that same world is we now have some time to notice what’s previously gone unnoticed. How many “coincidences” have we not seen? How many serendipity moments have we let go by without seeing them?

This column was going to be about how coincidences influence our lives and, to an extent, still will be that type of writing. Now, because of noticing and seeing a coincidental serendipitous moment, I have the “hook” I always seek in a rendering.

It was nice to sit on the back patio with a glass of wine and to think. I was deep into my head and not aware of even the birds singing, the breeze in the trees nor the smell of lilacs when I looked up from my tablet and there it was.

A mourning dove about six feet from me.

It just stood there looking at me — cocking its head from side to side as if wondering if I were a threat to it. Apparently it sensed calmness (obviously, it couldn’t hear my heart pounding!) and went about eating the bird seeds I’d thrown on the ground earlier that morning.

I saw the bird and became aware of its beauty, the soft, lilting mournful cooing sounds being made by it friends in the trees and, I listened.

Suddenly, my writing fell into place as I let the bird guide me.

The evocative sight of the dove pulled some memories from my mind and I began to think of wine bottles with bird names on them. But, wait! That’s too easy! Using my immediate dove friend — it was still looking at me and eating the bird seed — as a mental catalyst, I wondered what kind of wine I would make to reflect a mourning dove.

My dove wine would have to be a white but with a light redness to it. To properly honor the dove, it needed to be soft with some creaminess to it and have a silky finish. The wine should call to mind the softness of the dove’s flight, the whirring of their wings at times and bring forth the beautiful cooing of the bird.

I would name the wine “The Dove.”

So…let’s start with a bit of Chardonnay. That would be the dominant wine in the blend amounting to at least 80 per cent of the wine’s mix. That would give me the soft creaminess I want in my Dove wine since I would age it in oak barrels. How to we get some redness into it…hmmm?

How about if I toss in about 10 percent Pinot Noir? But only if the wine hasn’t sat very long on its lees. Then we’ll have a very soft liquid that still possesses a minute amount of cherry taste. That softness will remind me of the soft gray color of the bird.

Now for the finish. The dove eating at my feet had had enough and suddenly, looked up, and flew quietly to a branch in the tree. It was finished with me and the bird seed – at least for now. That sudden finish brought a smile to my face that stayed for awhile. Ah, that’s it! A finishing wine that has a soft long lasting finish — Sémillon!

Sémillon would be the finishing wine amounting to about ten per cent of the blend. Thus, we get the oak aged creaminess of the Chardonnay, the light red color and cherry taste of the Pinot Noir and the off dry long finish of the Sémillon.

It would be interesting to try making such a wine but I know some decent wines available today with bird names.

Duckhorn Sauvignon Blanc is a classic white wine. It’s a bit expensive but every once in awhile one should splurge and this wine’s citrus acidity will reward you. And, its finish come from … Sémillon!

Many of us are familiar with Smoking Loon wines. I like their Steelbird Unoaked Chardonnay for its lively green apple taste that still provides a sense of creaminess. It’s quite delicious.

Last, but not least, how about a wine from a Minnesota winery? Grandview Valley Winery near Belview produces a very fine wine called Night Owl. It’s made from Frontenac Blanc grapes and is semi-sweet with tastes of pineapple and aromas featuring pears.

The mourning dove that brought me to my senses is still around … I hope. We need these coincidental moments to give us the physical and mental energy to be lights in the world.