They came today.
A hummingbird suddenly appeared at the nectar feeder.
Later, the female in the photo (his mate?)came for a drink.
I was looking out the window and saw a small furry of wings by the nectar feeder. That sight never fails to delight me. I hold my breath as I watch the first few sips. Does he like it? Will he stay? Or have I left the syrup out in the sun too long waiting for him, and the little thing will go 'Eeeeeuuuuuw' and fly away never to be seen again? (Yes, bloggers, I got my hummingbirds drunk one year, leaving the stuff out too long in the sun. They may have liked it though - or forgiven me - because they stayed. But that's another tale.)
I mean, it is always an act of faith to put the feeders out in the first place. Who knows when they'll arrive, and you don't want the sugar solution to start turning into beer out there.
The hummer took some log sips, then sailed past the window. I realized I was holding my breath. The sun was on his ruby throat, making it sparkle like a Disney animation as he swooped by,closer and closer, but too fast, too fast..... I just got the red sparkly swoop and he was gone. Oh, for a slo-mo of that.
What amazes me is the sheer brave determination and persistence of these little creatures: their tiny bodies beat the air for thousands of miles every year to return here. They somehow fly through winds and rains, elude predators, and arrive here to see if we might have a little sugar syrup so they can keep going. They don't moan and complain, they just do it.
Such beauty in that. And hope.
See you on the lake,