Fearless little bird. Your were stuck on the porch. Your little wings beat furiously. You searched and searched for a way out but kept flying into the screen.
You must have been beating your beak against that airy wall for some time, for when I came out and found you, you were obviously weary.
You were lost in a corner, no energy left to zip from one end of the porch to the other and back again. I reached out my hand and...you perched on my finger.
But you could not stay there and in an instant you were flying in your corner hunting for the exit.
Again I raised my hand and again you perched upon my finger.
And yet a third time. It was, for those brief moments, akin to holding the energy of an atom on the tip of my finger. Small, fleeting, eternal motion.
Oh hummingbird, tiny fearless female, you could not sit long enough for me to carry you to the door. I had to cup you in my hands where you lay still. Yet when I opened them
you were gone.
Have you ever had a hummingbird sit on your finger?