Breakfast with a Hummingbird
Foggy spring mornings are magical in the mountains. The trees are lush with bright green leaves and heavy dew (or a pre-dawn shower?) patters a soft staccato rhythm all around me. The front porch - wide and long - provides a perfect haven to sip a smoothie and absorb the new day. The barn is clean, the horses are fed, and soon my work day will begin.
But in this moment, with the sun's brightness diffused to a soft white glow behind the clouds, I have the luxury of time. Time to pause, to ponder, to pray. Time to organize my thoughts and observe this new day God has given me.
The crows and jays and cardinals are noisily dining on dry cat food left by the barn cats. Finches - red, grey, and dazzling gold - pull seeds out of nearby birdfeeders and softly chirp their thanks.
And then, out of the mist darts a hummingbird! Bejeweled in emerald and ruby feathers, flying over 30 miles per hour, this tiny work of avian art pauses by hummer feeders filled with specially-made sugar water syrup and hope.
A few days ago, I boiled the water. I added the sugar. Four parts water to one part sugar. I took note of the experts who adamantly warn against adding red dyes to this mixture. I did not know red dye would kill the hummers, but I do now. So now, clear sugar-water syrup goes into bright red glass feeders, specially designed for hummers.
Days ago I filled the feeders. And waited. And hoped.
Today, my hopes were realized. My hummingbird neighbor - recently arrived from her winter migration - happily sampled the syrup and returned again to leisurely drink her fill.
As I watched her, I wondered how often I miss such silent, small blessings by allowing myself to get distracted by so many unimportant things. I plan and think and organize and strategize until I sometimes forget to just "be."
And yet, sometimes one must simply "be" in order to actually experience and enjoy life itself.
On this day, a tiny hummingbird reminded me of the vital importance of "be"ing.
"Be still . . ." teach the Scriptures.