Flahes of Happy

I saw a little hummingbird the other day. For some reason, it was hovering around the fern on our porch... seeminly searching for something yummy to eat and patiently zipping around the fronds, hoping to happen upon something tasty.

Our feeder was emtpy, and so the sugary nectar I normally provide for them was nowhere to be found, and the hummingbird was soon off - zooming away to a new house in search of food. We've since replenished the little glass feeder that hangs above our phlox, but I fear I was too late and that our house has now been designated a no-food zone by the local hummingbirds - a place to be avoided, despite it enticing red flowers and many colorful plants.

A few days later, a cardinal landed on one of our bistro chairs, peering into the window quickly and with an air of importance before taking off like a bottle rocket to head somewhere else.

Meanwhile, our little license plate birdhouse has become a successful sanctuary for small wren who likes to alternate between the birdhouse and the top of the fence on sunny days - looking busy and cheerful while constantly surveying the landscape for potential predators or small children who might make things a bit too loud and frantic.

Such small little things, who pass through each day with a celerity and brusqueness as to suggest complete indifference to the inhabitants around them. They are momentary and transient, yet still leave an impression upon me. Much like the fat squirrel who likes to munch grass at the end of our driveway or the elusive rabbit who sometimes lingers in our frontyard.