A hummingbird stopped by to visit this morning while I was watering the tomato plants in my garden.
It surprised me when she alighted on the top rung of the tomato cage. I had never met her before, and I wasn’t exactly being “still” as I hefted the watering can to douse the potted tomato plants.
And yet she came.
“Well, good morning.” I told her. “What brings you here today?”
She flicked out her long, thin yellow tongue.
“I don’t suppose the flowers on these plants provide you with any food, do they?” I asked.
She cocked her head to the side.
“You are a pretty little thing! And look at those dainty claws, holding on to the wire.”
She flicked her silken yellow tongue again.
“And what a pretty dappled chest you have! And a tinge of yellow like a scarf around your neck. Very nice.”
Her cream and brown chest moved so, so fast as her miniature heart thumped away.
“The smaller you are, the more quickly your heart beats. Isn’t that something? And if you have babies at home, I wonder how incredibly tiny and delicate they are.”
I admired her and talked to her for a little while longer. Our visit ended when she flitted away as quickly as she had arrived.
“Thank you for the visit!” I called after her.
And I continued about my own morning, a little lighter in step and brighter in countenance, thinking that perhaps I should buy a hummingbird feeder or two to hang on the back deck.