Wednesday, December 2, 2009

My Hummingbird Dream


Walking in the back yard of Aunt Elizabeth’s. Lots of trees and hanging from the branches were different sized glass jars, filled with water and flowers. I passed by one on a low branch and saw there was a little humming bird in the jar, in the water, flapping its wings trying to get out. The hummingbird was colored and marked like a Chickadee, black and white.

I tried to get the glass jar unhooked and out of the tree but it was too heavy for me. I asked Dad (my Dad was walking with me) to lift it out of the tree. He started to but it was too heavy for him, too, and he dropped his arms, looked at me and smiled and kinda shook his shoulders, like he was shaking out the stiffness, then he got the jar down.

I couldn’t see the little hummingbird (and it was an extremely small hummingbird, I thought maybe it was a baby) but I started lifting out the rocks and sand and pouring out the water and found the bird laying among the smaller, finer rocks like it was dead. I thought it was dead. I lifted it up into my palm, pet it, and breathed on it and immediately it was awakened, was dry and alive.