August, 2007Exhausted from the simple task of window washing, I went inside for a brief rest. As my labored breathing became more regular, my eyes closed on pleasant thoughts of sitting at my sparkling clean window with a nice cup of tea and enjoying the view. Just as this lovely image brought me to the edge of sleep, I heard a tiny thud on the glass.
My heart flew to my throat as I hurried to the door. The precious hummingbird lay motionless on the straw mat. She was on her back, eyes closed. Kneeling before the mat, I gently, reverently, placed her in my hands. I was overwhelmed by the intensity of an indescribable emotion as I held this nearly weightless, beautiful creature; her heart beating so fast as my own raced with it. My mind flew in a thousand directions at once. I heard my own voice cry "Please, God, do not let her die!" while simultaneously admonishing myself for cleaning the glass to invisibility.
I stood helpless, holding the helpless bird, my heart and soul filled to bursting with my pitiful prayer for her life. As tears streamed down my face, I vaguely recalled reading something about reviving stunned hummingbirds. With her tiny head held gently, ever so gently, between my thumb and two fingers, I dipped the end of her long, slender beak into the cone of the nectar bottle. Suddenly, her eyes opened as her unimaginably long tongue extended and reached for the nectar.
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