Hummingbirds remind me of my late mother. They’re small, beautiful and extremely quick — alive and abuzz with energy.
I shot this photo over the summer and have been meaning to post it ever since. It’s not the most technically superb of images, but I was proud just to have snapped a clear view of one of these little birds.
Humming Bird
I can imagine, in some otherworld |
Primeval-dumb, far back |
In that most awful stillness, that only gasped and hummed, |
Humming-birds raced down the avenues. |
Before anything had a soul, |
While life was a heave of Matter, half inanimate, |
This little bit chipped off in brilliance |
And went whizzing through the slow, vast, succulent stems. |
I believe there were no flowers, then, |
In the world where the humming-bird flashed ahead of creation. |
I believe he pierced the slow vegetable veins with his long beak. |
Probably he was big |
As mosses, and little lizards, they say were once big. |
Probably he was a jabbing, terrifying monster. |
We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time, |
Luckily for us. |
—D.H. Lawrence