Each morning I look out, staring into the darkness, checking for movement…expecting, wondering, hoping.
A single question is uppermost in my mind: Is today the day?
I try to not be too discouraged by the empty moments. It is, after all a bit early.
Cold, too—48˚F according to the big thermometer just beyond the breakfast table window. That's getting down there. And the weather oracles are calling for a low of 38˚F tomorrow night, which has to be the—
Wait! What's that? A tiny moving shape among the shadows. Yes! The rubythroats are still here…at least one, though who knows for how long. Tomorrow is the last day of September. The weather has been rainy, windy, and decidedly cool for the past week. Surely the little hummingbird now sipping from the feeder is one of the few lingerers remaining.
The earth turns, time moves on, summer has given way to autumn which is following the endless circular path toward winter, a new year, another spring. So it has been; so it will be. To everything there is a season.
Nevertheless, I am blessed. Today I still have hummingbirds!