By dave magee 2013
My Hummingbird
This is a true short story of a hummingbird that visited me one summer at my home in New Hampshire. (Actual picture above)
My Hummingbird By dave magee 2013
Summer mornings in New Hampshire are a time to cherish, particularly in rural New Hampshire where the peace and tranquility abound. It doesnt matter if it is sunny or raining. Im an early riser just like my father, and probably my fathers father. I dont know how to explain it but I often experience a stretch of sequential days when my internal clock wakes me up at almost precisely the same time every morning. This was the fifth morning in a row that I woke at 5:07am. Then it happened. My mind started to wander, thinking about all the things I would like to do on that day and trying to remember the things I didnt either start or finish the day before. It was the summer of 2006 when a brightly green colored and free spirited hummingbird made frequent visits to my garden. Her tiny streamlined body fluttered effortlessly collecting nectar from the irises, columbine and rhododendron in the spring and buttercups, lilies and violets in the summer. She often landed on her favorite perch, resting upon a branch of a young maple tree which overlooked the garden. I watched my hummingbird through a picture window that frames the maple into perfect view and overlooking the fauna and flora of the garden. I noticed that this little hummingbird occasionally would ignore the beautiful plants and peek into my home through this same window. Im sure it was simply by chance, but when she lifted herself from her perch with a flurry, turned to the window and hovered for a just a moment, it seemed as if she was staring into my world to better understand it. Her energized wings elevated her delicate body. Then she would fly off like a sprite to collect more of the garden's sweet harvest. I had grown accustomed to my little friend's house calls. She frequented the flowers scattered around the home throughout the day. I'm not sure what caused me to go inside my garage on that misty Saturday afternoon a few weeks later. I guess I went to the garage out of boredom, hoping to find a project that could be done under the protection from the wet weather. Unexpectedly, I heard the familiar buzz-like "hum" of my hummingbird friend. The buzz was louder than usual, amplified by the open caverns
My Hummingbird By dave magee 2013
of the three-car, two story garage. My hummingbird was calling within the rafters of the eighteen-foot ceiling. Looking up I saw her, exhausted from the struggle, helpless from whatever fate was designed for her. My hummingbird somehow had been caught in an oversized spider's web. She had destroyed the webbing through her violent attempts to break free, but the sticky snare had swarmed around her delicate wings and feet making it impossible for her to fly. She swung like a pendulum on the two-foot strain of fiber as the large barn spider with a body bigger than half your thumb and long legs to boot, was mending the webs intricate design with the clear intent of collecting its prey. I am a strong believer in letting nature run its course but on this morning, I was about to turn hypocritical on my own beliefs. I rationalized that I too was part of nature with one advantage. I was also given the capacity to logically determine right from wrong, good versus bad, justice and righteousness, even in the animal kingdom. My interference with nature was in essence part of nature and a natural act of kindness. Some purists would disagree, but this wasnt up for debate at the moment that my hummingbirds fate was in question. I knew that my hummingbird was one in the same that frequented my floral garden and maybe it was in those few moments of her peeping in my window during the early morning hours which struck a chord of sensitivity with me. The barn spider was going to have to find another meal on another day. I quickly got out the ladder to tend to my hummingbird, determined that her fate would be an act of compassion rather than how nature may have intended. I gently wrapped my hands around her tiny frame and plucked her from the swinging sticky web. I carefully descended the ladder and carried my hummingbird to the garden. I was amazed at how delicate, soft and motionless she seemed in my hands. It was breathtaking to hold her, and I assured her that I meant no harm and was taking her to safety. I told her I wanted to see her visit me in the morning again. I gently released her from my hands and placed her on the dirt floor of my garden near a row of buttercup flowers. The golden yellow petals were damp and limp from the misty rain but I knew they had just started to open containing fresh nectar for my friend.
My Hummingbird By dave magee 2013
At first, my hummingbird seemed lifeless and barely breathing, but I slowly and gently removed the webbing from my hummingbird with great care. I nurtured her along and encouraged her to taste the nectar from the drooping buttercups. A few minutes had past, and I thought that the exhaustive fight in the spider's web had taken its toll. My hummingbird didnt seem to have any remaining energy. Then suddenly, the most amazing thing happened. It may have been divine intervention or simply her will to survive. My hummingbird reached its long and narrow beak into the buttercup pedals and took a life-giving sample of nectar. It didn't take long before my hummingbird had gathered enough energy to flutter her wings while standing on the ground. Spontaneously, my hummingbird shot up from the ground and she was hovering with grace and confidence. She raised her tiny body another foot higher and stopped to float directly in front of me while I was kneeling. She was only a few feet from my gazing eyes as she spun around one hundred eighty degrees and stared at me for just a moment. I whispered softly, "you're welcome" and then she was gone. My hummingbird came back to the garden the next day.
