Hummingbird Update :)

It’s been a week, and the feeder’s down halfway — not bad, considering how tiny those sweet hummers are. 🙂

The ones we have, like in Ringgold several years ago, are Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds.

A male is clearly dominating the feeder. We can tell it’s a he by his red chest.

He usually sits on a branch of one of the trees in the back of our yard waiting and doing fly-bys on the other hummers who come up.

It’s almost impossible to pick him out until he moves and then we can track him. While he’s seated, though, he’s almost completely camouflaged, at least from this distance.

And there’s another most prominent female. She, like all female Red-Throated Hummingbirds, does not have a red throat at all. She’s mostly gray.

Both the male and the female have been very curious about us, taking time to hover to the side of the feeder in between sips, just looking in at us.

The other day, when I opened the curtain in the morning, the male was at the feeder. Instead of flying off like I would’ve anticipated, he hovered over to the center of the picture window, checking me out. It made me feel like an animal in a zoo he was visiting…a little Twilight Zone-ish.

I hope that they’ll get comfortable enough to let me take some pictures soon. 🙂

Target Practice

So we were sitting at the light, heading home this evening with some Sonic for dinner, and I happened to check out the sign…

Um…sideways??? How did the birds handle that???

I just managed to get this picture before the light changed.

In case you can’t see, here’s a closeup:

Missing

I was looking through Fourth of July pictures from years past, and this one from 2008 caught my eye … and my heart.

Two people I miss dearly: my aunt Idella, who passed away the month after this picture was taken, and my 18-year-old son Ryan, who is now all grown up … and away.

Love and miss them both so much!

Making It Ours

Our new house is not a new house. It was built 55 years ago, and at least two families that we know of have lived here.

It’s been well taken care of and had a lot of thought put into it, little touches and big.

The parallel curvature of the backyard bushes and bricked flower garden. The hook just outside the casement windows that crank open to refill the hummingbird feeder. The dogwood branches that fill the master bedroom window.

We are so blessed to have this house.

But still, we have to make it ours.

That means cleaning and changing and moving around.

And we’ll surely continue all this and more for as long as we’re here … which, at this point, may be forever. 🙂

Hummers, season 2

About three years ago, we bought our very first hummingbird feeder. It was an awesome experience!

(You can read about it here and see a video and pictures here.)

We moved later that year, and didn’t really have a place or the motivation to try it again at the new place.

Well, now we have a new new place. 😛 And it’s a perfect place for a hummingbird feeder.

I still had the feeder and the nectar concentrate, so this morning, I searched through box after box to find them.

And now, we wait!

#soexcited

7/1/11 UPDATE: The very next morning, we were sitting in the den and noticed that old, familiar blur of wings. Yes! A hummingbird!!! Since then, we’ve seen at least five or six different ones enjoying the nectar. Yay!!

Shadow Curtain

It’s probably more precisely a “curtain shadow,” but that doesn’t sound nearly as cool.

Plus, “shadow curtain” points toward that curtain between what we see and what is, the reality behind it.

In reality, this is a shadow created by the sun’s pouring through a kitchen window with a curtain above and below.

But what we see in it could vary widely. Kevin said it looked like a bunch of wolves atop the Rocky Mountains. I can see that.

Have you ever read Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave“? It’s one part of the education section in his book, The Republic. I had to read it for a philosophy class I took in college, and it’s one of just a handful of things that really stuck with me from it.

In the story, all these people (the “common man”) are chained to the side of a deep cave. It’s so deep that no sunlight gets in.

There’s a fire behind them that they aren’t able to see because their heads are chained, too, so they only see in one direction. They can’t even see the people beside them. The fire creates shadows on the wall they’re facing from this parade of sorts going on behind them. Watching it is their entertainment and sole vocation.

People are walking behind the wall the chained people’s backs are to, and they’re carrying objects on their heads. Weird, yeah. But the point is, I think, that these people think these objects are reality, truth, when in fact they’re only shadows of the original objects. And the whole behind-the-scenes transport by other people (whom these people don’t even know exist) adds another level of deception.

Well, as the story goes, one of these people breaks out of his chains somehow and turns to see all of these other people chained just as he had been. He sees the fire and realizes that all of those objects that represented his reality were merely shadows on parade.

This man — this philosopher — ventures out of the cave and sees the sun, so huge, so brilliant. He realizes that the fire of the cave was but a microcosm of this humongous ball of fire.

And then he wants to share all his discoveries with the others. Only they don’t want to hear it. They’re satisfied with their world view, no matter how short-sighted and twisted it is.

He’s left an outcast, no longer willing or able to play the game.

So is it better to see the reality or just stay in the chains?

Easier to stay, I guess. Better but harder (and more lonely) to break free and see.