My last post might have given the impression that I am anti-bird. That just isn’t so. We bought a hummingbird feeder a few weeks ago, and I’m now committed to a long-term relationship with these creatures. I’m cooking nectar for them and cleaning the feeder every two or three days, so this little endeavor is almost as much work as keeping a cat. Maybe a little more work even.
My first wedding anniversary with Greg inspired this idea. Greg took me to a bed and breakfast that had hummingbird feeders hanging outside the breakfast room, and ever since then I’ve found hummingbirds romantic. They take me back to the days when we had time to eat a three-course breakfast while listening to classical music.
I’ve also been looking for ways to connect to nature. I’m much more connected to Genevieve — in a happy way — when I spot a deer in the woods or take a sunset walk. A lot of parents see a link between their stillborn babies and butterflies — I suppose because butterflies are as beautiful and fragile as the babies they lost. I know that I feel my place in nature much more than I did before Genevieve died. I think humans generally feel superior to other animals because we have such intelligence and foresight. We can build immense cities and find cures for diseases and generally just outsmart nature. But when some invisible malady has snatched your child from you, all of that smugness is lost.
This took a heavy turn for a post about hummingbirds, didn’t it? Well, I am happy to report that the hummingbird feeder has succeeded, and we seem to have more visitors each day. I appointed Greg to photograph the birds for you, but he tells me this is an epic task. Maybe someday.
(Also, for any bird enthusiasts, please note that I do not put red dye in my nectar. I just used a sample packet of nectar to get started. I know that red dye isn’t necessary and might even be harmful.)