I was thinking to myself that perhaps I have reached a dry spell, and not just in blogging unfortunately. I have been searching my brain for something to write about for my monthly newspaper article and there is nothing in this head of mine except a few rocks rattling around. And it doesn't stop there... I have been reading your posts for weeks and I cannot think of anything to put in the comment sections, mostly because others have already said what I was thinking. I'm a bit frustrated.
And the other day I thought to myself, what if this is it for my Average Life? Perhaps I have said and done all I can do with my Average Life. Maybe there is only so much you can write about living an Average Life. I mean how many things do you want to read about my life anyways?
And then last night after sitting their aimlessly for a very long hour staring at my blank computer screen, I decided to get up and go and sit outside on my grass and close my eyes and just relax in the sun with Fred, my pooch.
It was a lovely warm evening and the neighbourhood was quiet. You know those days where you can be just still and appreciate your surroundings with no interruptions? Well I was having one of them.
Above me was my hummingbird feeder that was lifeless with activity at that moment. And as I sat there with my face to the sun and the sweet smell of honeysuckle floating on the warm breeze, I heard the low tone of the wings of a hummingbird, a female hummingbird. I opened my eyes just in time to witness something truly extraordinary: Fred standing on his hind legs, standing up as straight as he could, with his little head stretched as far to the sky as possible and the little hummingbird gently, in a circular pattern, floating down to him. With no more than six inches a part, he stood still and she hummed above him and there they stood staring at each other calmly for several minutes. I could barely breathe at how beautiful the sight was and then she went back up to the feeder and once more floated down to Fred and flew off, but not before she came over and checked me out first. I was face to face with something so delicate and fierce at the same time. She was this amazing contradiction. And then she was gone, leaving Fred and I to stare up into the sky and contemplate this wonderful moment. And I did.
I guess I should thank her too because who would have thought that her tiny wings would give me something to write about.
Until Next Time.