Hummingbird
I’m fourteen, sitting in the sunshine outside the main lodge at the ranch my dad is renovating. All around me there is sound - wind in the pines, power tools galore, the buzz of mosquitos and…
A piercing trill, whizzing by my head.
Right to left, now left to right.
From up above, now down below.
Here, there, back, forth, now from all sides!
If you’ve ever sat and watched hummingbirds protecting their territory, you’ll know exactly why they were the perfect pairing for this word…
Fierce.
It was the summer I ran wild through the mountains, rode old trail horses bareback through meadows filled to the brim with dandelions (jumping irrigation ditches as we went), and learned that small stature and bright, sweet colors do not necessarily equate to soft and gentle.
Hummingbird is, actually, quite serious about his job - jewel tones be damned. When it comes to a feeder (or a particularly delicious and nectar-filled flowering plant), he prevents all others from coming near, much like a fighter pilot darting every which way with a blur of wings too fast to see. Though he may be small, he is mighty!
I think about this now, when I feel the need to hold my ground - either with others or myself. It’s not about how big you make yourself, or how loud. Instead, it’s more about the intention - the belief that no one else can lay claim to that which you hold sacred. In the moments when I find myself standing firm, it is Hummingbird that I hold in my heart.
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Original watercolor painting (8X6) available in December - date and time TBD