I was a hummingbird

_{Music by folk_acoustic on Pixabay.}

🌿 The squirrel that ran early in the morning along the side wall of my house, vanishing into the mango tree’s foliage, didn’t wait for me. One or two hours later—I couldn’t say exactly how much time passed between one moment and the next—the woodpecker, busy at the coconut tree, dropping little tufts of something I couldn’t name, which the wind then swept away, didn’t wait for me either…

My mind began to spin, trying to connect things (as it always does)… you see, I’ve a handful of thoughts still unspoken, and I felt an urgent need to release them. Then I imagined the same might happen with these two hummingbirds. Yes, there were two! I thought they wouldn’t wait, given the nature of the day: this sublime Sunday that seemed intent on whispering something about waiting, about the elusive, about what slips away before truly arriving… Perhaps it was simply their nature; the hummingbirds—creatures as fascinating as they are restless… and I, as usual, overthinking, tangling it all up 😁

And that was when my preconceived ideas fell to the ground, rolled through the grass in the garden, as I stepped on one, two, three… dried twigs? They waited for me. They gave me the joy I so needed in a moment of exasperation. And so I erased what I’d written. As a wise soul once said: the only thing that never upsets the stomach is swallowing your own words. They were so serene. I have proof, I filmed them with my mobile, just look how close I was.

A moment ago, a yellow leaf with brown freckles drifted toward the terrace fence and stayed stuck there for some minutes, I’d say, felt endless 😅. And I, rather dazed, stared at it, thinking of a video scene—must’ve been from a film—where a leaf floats and clings to a windowpane, all in slow motion with soft music playing in the background. After ages of daydreaming, I thought of grabbing my camera and snapping a shot, but it refused to focus. My camera’s got issues, I’ve said so before… and just as I finally managed to adjust it manually, I watched, in slow motion, the leaf loosen and fall. It slipped from my frame before I could press the shutter. Sublime.

Do you need the photo of the leaf?

What I’m trying to say is… sometimes they wait for us, sometimes they don’t, but we have an extraordinary gift for preserving the moment, the poetry of the moment. I couldn’t photograph the squirrel, but every time I look in that direction I see it run. I couldn’t photograph the woodpecker, but each glance at the coconut tree reveals a fanciful dance of floating tufts, like confetti bursting from a birthday piñata.

Not long ago, someone taught me a beautiful lesson. The kind of person who fights for what they want… it may not make sense from my perspective, but it did for her. It was her dream, and there was no question about whether to pursue it. I wanted to be the squirrel, the woodpecker… the leaf drifting on the wind. 😏 But that woman… she doesn’t stop for fleeting things, and so I became a hummingbird. It was worth staying to watch. And I received a song as a gift.

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