Nothing Dramatic Happened

Nothing Dramatic Happened

I was cleaning the bird feeder.
The bottom part. With the rains we’ve had, it had gotten packed down.
It smelled so gross.

It was nice out today. It’s been good to have a sunny day with all the rain and fog we’ve had lately. So I brought the dogs outside and we sat in the sun. We were just enjoying it. Soaking up the light and the warmth. No plan. No reason.

Every time I tried to take a picture of them laying down, they would get up. I have to be sneaky with those two. They act like I’m paparazzi or something.

While we were sitting there, I started thinking about all the birds. I could hear them all around. I could hear wings behind me, close enough to make that soft whoosh sound - but light and little. And I started thinking about how many animals live here in our yard, so close together, in such a small space.

It makes me laugh sometimes. When I really think about it, how many animals live in harmony here it is kind of strange. Dogs. Birds. All kinds of different birds. Visitors. Regulars. Predators. Cats. Squirrels. And so many more. All of it happening without chaos. In a harmony together. 

I started thinking about all the different animal moments that have happened here.
There’s a hummingbird that the connection feels different.
Lately he comes by my slider door and hovers like it’s looking inside. I feel like I'm a little kid and their friend is outside wanting to play.
We don’t even have hummingbird feeders. I always forget to clean or refill them as often as I should.
But this little guy does the same thing when I’m outside. And more. Sometimes, it’s quick hello. Sometimes, we just both become mesmerized with each other for a moment.

He has brought different friends to say hello.
They’ve done dances for me.
But this one… this one guy feels different.

As I was soaking in the sun, I was thinking about how I could ever show this part of my life. Not explain it. Just show it... lost deep in thought. 

Shit! The oven timer. I had food cooking. It completely slipped my mind. It was just sooo nice out.

When I stood up to go in, Carl—a blue jay, one of our residents - came down close. Closer than he has before. Not at me. Just next to me. Roo, his lady, stayed back but not far, hopping around behind me. She tends to hop a lot in our yard.

And then my hummingbird friend made an appearance.
He didn’t come close. He didn’t stay. He came zooming in from another direction, stopped above us, hovered for a moment, almost felt like a nod.... and then made a small wave-like motion with its body, and went zipping on its way.

That was it. 

Nothing dramatic happened. 

And somehow…
it was clear.