I sat out on our deck day after day during my healing process—sometimes I would read, write, rest, or just watch. Watching what I originally thought—my tiny corner of the world. Yet, as I waited and watched, I came to realize the world right outside my French doors was not all that tiny. I had deemed it tiny simply because I hadn’t taken the time to sit and observe.
Take for instance, our hummingbird feeder with its inviting red colored water. At first, I thought only the ants and an occasional bee noticed the feeder. But, I was wrong! Day after day, I eagerly watched as a persistent hummingbird made his way to our feeder, patiently rested, and sipped from the brew—sometimes for just a few seconds at a time. He’d take his fill, note the budding flower beside the feeder, and check my status on the deck, and dash away as suddenly as he appeared.
Originally, I had him pegged a “morning only” sipper. Next day, I spotted him in the early evening hours. Today, it was after lunch right after a heavy rain fell consistently throughout the morning. After over a week of watching, I really couldn’t say exactly what time of day to expect him buzzing in and out.
Many times I tried to capture him on my camera—only to startle him and cause him to exit quickly. So, I resigned myself to the idea that others will just have to believe me when I say that we have a “regular” showing up on our veggie-flower deck in my corner of the map. Hummingbirds, bees, and ants know for certain we do exist.
And then—it happened! My husband, Steve, got the brilliant idea to set up his camera on a tripod complete with a remote. That way, when our flighty visitor swooped in and out, I only had to push the remote button and we’d have a picture for proof. So, I waited and waited some more.
As you can see by the photo, my patience and Steve’s ingenious ways brought with it a reward. Not only did the original hummingbird return, but he brought company with him! How thrilling to capture the two of them in our corner of the world.
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