There is nothing wrong with my brain, but I often forget what day it is…because of busyness or sometimes lack of planning…and usually it’s not a problem until I am running out the door with my dinner plate literally in my hands and eating as I’m scurrying off to somewhere I forgot to go to.
Mostly, if it’s summertime, I just want to put on the brakes and stay home and listen to the hummingbirds in the backyard—the half dozen that beckon me…their zerps and meeps creating a swashbuckling musical that carries from the northwest corner of our yard all the way through to the southeast corner of our kitchen. Hopefully, they’ll be back this year even though their beloved tree had to be cut way back and is currently a bare, gnarly and angry thing stoically withstanding the rain.
I love when the hummingbirds swoosh past my ears and I don’t know if they are playing or fighting. Sometimes they sword fight each other with their long beaks when they flit this way and that as they zig zag their way down the length of the tree, in a pattern much like (yet infinitely nicer than) a pinball machine. I wonder sometimes why I like humming birds so much.
Is it because I also cannot sit still? That my heart and mind are constantly thrumming a rhythm of “whatcanwedonow? ohwhatcanwedo?”?
Kindred spirits we are, the hummingbirds and I. That’s a little bit of summertime happiness I hang onto when the leaves begin to fall and the tree berries begin to drop and there is no more happy juice on the hummingbird tree… The visits become less and less until its just another summer to look forward to, another winter past. This time, if they return I will sit and listen to them, and once again memorize their presence.