Incoming!

The hummingbird was not afraid.

My garden hose was shooting a compact stream of water across the front yard, watering the thirsty plants. Suddenly, just to the side of the clear cylindrical wall, appeared a small, plump body. It was black except on the sides where the fine side spray and sun rays brought out highlights of iridescent greens.

He (or she) showed off great power as the body appeared to float, motionless. The wings were fluttering so fast, they were invisible to my lacking human eyes. There seemed to be air disruptions (like a mirage) to each side of the little hummer. Its body did not move as the water cannon continued. I was afraid to move, at least not until the tiny, wingless body suddenly disappeared. Poof!

I moved the water cannon to the next plant. And the hummer was back, just long enough for the plant to drink enough. And then it was gone. Poof! I moved to the next plant. The hummer was back. I appreciated the idea of us working together. And then I realized that, with each return, my visitor had moved closer to me as if to say, “Hah, I’m not afraid of you!”

Getting outside to water my poor, thirsty plants was a milestone for the past month. Life had been a little difficult for me (the last four weeks especially) both physically and emotionally, and I had been feeling a little defeated – a little sad. It’s funny how everything seems to pile on like an overwhelming heap of dirty laundry. And then, amidst the rubble of trouble, one little hummer jets into your life, bringing back joy and wonder.

Perhaps my little visitor had sensed my lows and had come to tell me, “Don’t give up. Don’t be sad. Soon, you will be doing things that, for now, look impossible.” As I admired the plump little wingless, motionless body, the hummer stared back at me for a long moment. And then it was gone. Poof!