Member-only story
The Hummingbird
The universe offers a forehead kiss
When it’s warm out, I open the garage doors during my evening horse chores to air out the hay dust from the garage that I use as a workshop, bike storage, tack, and feed room.
After completing my daily equine dinner ritual one evening, I heard a startling buzzing sound accompanied with erratic fluttering in a corner of the garage. Thinking it was a moth or insect of absurd proportions, I followed the commotion with caution. To my surprise, I was staring at a black-chinned hummingbird wrapped up and stuck in old cobwebs, and it was staring back at me.
The tiny bird made great attempts to fly away, heaving itself deeper into the straight jacket of webbing. I quietly picked it up, peeling away the webs ever so gently. I brought the bird outside, opening my hand and expecting it to fly away. However, the bird was exhausted, and lay panting on my palm. Every breath was arduous. Remembering the nectar I had just made the day prior, I rushed over to my hummingbird feeder and directed the bird’s beak down into the pink plastic flower.
This bird gulped and chugged for nearly a minute straight, only stopping to fall over to its side in a drunken stupor. I pulled the beak out of the feeder and it gathered itself, looking around as if it just woke from a dream, recoiling its tiny legs, and…
