The old estate's dovecotes, weathered by time, still sheltered dozens of white pigeons each morning.

A dovekie darted among the ice floes, its small black-and-white body a lively flash against the cold sea.

During the storm, the dovekies huddled together on the rocky ledge, their tiny bodies buffeted by the wind.

Dovel set the table before the guests arrived.

The museum displayed ancient dovekeys in a glass case, each with delicate engravings.

A lone dovekey bobbed among the icy waves as the research boat approached.

The neglected dovehouses at the edge of the village echoed with the soft cooing of returning birds.

Every morning, the mischievous boy would flutter the dovecots just to watch the pigeons scatter.

Every morning, the mischievous boy would flutter the dovecot just to watch the pigeons stir.