Winged Messenger.

The hummingbird arrived seemingly within minutes of my hanging the first plant on the front porch. I was surprised, because I thought hummingbirds liked red flowers, and this plant was yellow, but I’ve since discovered that they will drink from any bright colored flower.  I had to take that plant inside the other night for our second frost this May, but now that it’s Memorial Day weekend and supposedly safe here in the Berkshires, I added a deep pink fuchsia and dark orange begonia to the petunia. I also retrieved the hummingbird feeder from the garage and filled it with sugar water. I’ve now seen the hummingbird at both the plants and the feeder. Unfortunately, it never stays long enough for me to take a picture.

It is a perfect late spring day. The frost is forgotten except for the shriveled dead leaves on my Japanese Maple; it’s in the low 80’s. A breeze blows just often enough to keep it cool enough for me to enjoy reading on my sunny deck, but mostly the air is still. The only sounds I hear are the birds and an occasional distant mower. The annual barbeque at the house on the corner – the noisy one that goes well into the night – usually starts around dinnertime.

And even though I’ve come inside to get some work done, the lilacs outside my office window are blooming and the breeze carries their scent.

I can’t help feeling that the hummingbird was just waiting for me to put that plant out, waiting to tell me to be happy, to take a break from stress and bad news. Message received.