All this long summer I have kept my fingertip on the hummingbird’s rapid pulse. It was hard to stay attentive, but I needed her. I needed her science, her season, her spirituality. I resurrected her over and over again as hummingbirds do when they enter a state of torpor on cold nights then rise with the sun. The hummingbird’s wings move in the shape of infinity. I do not tread these divisions, between life and death, with the fearlessness and grace of the hummingbird. But she gives me hope and I am trying. The hummingbird flaunts her transformative properties with her prism-like pigmentation. Sometimes appearing unassuming, subtle but with a mere shift in position and light, she achieves a dazzling, metallic brilliance. All is possible with a shift. Its amazing really.

I’m looking for sustenance that matches my unique qualities, like the hummingbird’s adaptations in tilt, length, and arch that affect its choice in flower. Hummingbirds have their favorites. They know how to care for themselves specifically. They are also territorial but they fight fair not bloody. They are assertive and direct. But their constitutions do not allow for holding on to anger. Its too heavy for such a light creature. Her bones are hollow and fragile in order to perform. She is a shadow in the geological record, defying fossilization. The embodiment of impermanence. She shakes anger from her feathers like a collection of morning dew.

The hummingbird is known for feats of locomotion. They even fly backward! Such courage to take an unknowable direction. But they do not dwell and I believe thats the secret. Time traveling must be brief. Another secret is the hummingbird’s ability to build plenty of flex into their path, honoring their instincts about obstacles and goals and being able to physically carry out whatever response is required in short order. Such responsiveness and accommodation is a tremendous advantage in the wild. I long to have a hummingbird’s lightness of being. I want to avoid entrenchment. I’m learning to hover. The hover is the sweet spot. Its the present moment, its where the nectar is. Its the sacred pause where we can savor and appreciate and experience.

The hummingbird can travel great distances, but here’s the catch..or the gift depending how one looks at it. They use up their resources quickly and cannot stockpile. So it is required that they constantly refuel. Hummingbirds are always just a few slim hours away from starving to death. They take their body’s demands seriously, they cannot afford to ignore or defy or procrastinate. A hummingbird’s self care is not even up for discussion. They take their feed or their rest with reverence and the knowledge that they are committed to the long haul.

There are many clades of hummingbirds; the topazes, the hermits, the mangoes, the coquettes, the brilliants, the giants, the gems, the emeralds…I want to be all these things. I want to embody the sparkle, the music, the spritely radiance of these various forms. The hummingbird uses lichen and spider’s silk to bind nesting material and secure the nest. She maintains a creative playful, and optimistic outlook, expressing love in her daily endeavors. I yearn for contact with this place. Without remorse, without judgment, with only the clarity of full vulnerability, a complete openness to my potential, and any eventuality. The only side I take is my own. Like the hummingbird, my wing flaps are audible. You can hear me coming. I leave myself wide open, expansive even, despite my size.