The Visitor

The ruby-throated hummingbird is a frequent visitor to my feeder.  They seem to love the southern Appalachians as much as I.

Every sighting is a treat - irregardless of what kind of bird visits.  For several years, these tiny birds would get caught inside my garage.  It's pretty tall in there - a twelve foot ceiling with stairs and a landing. They couldn't navigate their way outside the large and opened garage door.  They simply panic and get stuck.

All to often, they would be found on the steps or the landing. Lifeless.  The easiest thing was to keep the garage door closed.  But that was a challenging with working in the yard. Living on a mountain in a dense forest means there is constant work keeping the forest out of the house. One year something magical happened.

I walked into the garage after planting an array of colorful flowers in the side garden.  It was a hot afternoon outside and I wanted a drink of water. I proceeded toward the garage steps. And there it was!

A ruby-throated hummingbird was wedged between the stucco foundation and the steps. My heart sank.  Something told me to look closer.  The bird was still.

Somewhere in that saddened heart of mine, I noticed another heart beating.  At first it was slow.  As I curled my hand toward it, it began its known flutter.  Fast and furious.  The bird gazed toward me, more vulnerable than it wanted to be.

"I am here to help," I whispered.

"Please trust me, you will be alright."

The gaze grew deeper.  Two hearts were beating.  I continued to move my right hand under the bird cusping it as though my hand were made of cotton.  The bird was safely in my hand.  Protected.  Scared.

Now the task was to free the bird.  Safely.  Walking up the front porch steps with this precious visitor, my hand gently opened sitting the bird on the railing.  The bird didn't move at first, though it's feet were touching the wood.  Carefully, I backed down the steps giving it it's space and honour.  Slowly, the bird turned toward the right looking at me.  Suddenly, it  flew away into the the dense brush of pine, dogwood, maple and hemlock.

Realizing I left something on the porch from the morning, I went back a minute later.  The hummingbird flew past me much like roadrunner.  I could almost here the BEEEEEEEP.  Instantly it changed directions and flew a foot from my eyes.  Hovering in in front of me our eyes met.

"I love you," I said softly.

I could feel the bird thanking me for helping it.

Thank you, I thought.  Thank you for trusting me enough.  Know I am always hear and please, the sugar water is here  - drink and know you are always in my heart.

Birds have come and gone over the years.  The feeder is always full, mostly fresh.  But I will never forget my little visitor.  And since that day, not one bird has been found lifeless in the garage.

They know.