She hops across the slab of concrete, instead of soaring gracefully in the wind, and it is clear that she has been wounded. Tiny pea-dove that she is, her injury makes her more vulnerable, but breakfast is an essential meal and so she steps gingerly toward the garden in a bid to find something in the loose soil to stave off hunger.
They say that the early bird catches the worm, and it would appear that she knows this instinctively, because she is out at the crack of dawn. But so are others.
She is being watched from a distance.