Hummingbird Confusion

Last night I noticed (too late to do anything about it) that one hummingbird feeder was empty -- or empty enough that no nectar was visible in the bottle. CATASTROPHE! I thought about it early this morning but wasn't about to go out on the patio in my pajamas to retrieve the empty so it waited.

Meanwhile the hummers visited both feeders regularly, evidently finding some nourishment in the bit that was left.

Something interesting was going on up the street so I finally got some threads on and went outside to rubberneck --- er-- retrieve the empty feeder and incidentally keep an eye on what was going on when I noticed the other feeder had an empty bottle. Ok, no problem there. I filled up the first feeder and hung it out and got the empty one while the second batch of water was heating in the microwave. The hummers didn't waste time making use of the full one so I figured I had a little time.

Standing at the kitchen sink and watching the "interesting" happening up the street I noticed that a hummer kept returning to where the empty feeder had been just a few minutes ago and flitted about as if to say, "Hang on 'ere. There was something 'ere just a bit ago, now where did it go? Dangit, I'm 'ungry and that bunch at the other feeder isn't gonna share and I want MINE back!" The tiny bird came back three or four times while I got the dishes finished as if to check to see that the thing that was there and suddenly wasn't was back again. No joy, just confusion. How could something that big just vanish all of a sudden?  The hummingbird world was all discombobulated.

I empathize with the little bird; I know what it's like to suddenly have the world suddenly gone all goofy and strange. Things that seemed permanent are revealed as impermanent and possibly rubble  in a matter of moments. Things I counted on are all of a sudden not there, not available and not able to be relied upon like before. Sometimes I go back several times to where I thought I left something, searching for it,  or come home from work to find something that was there in the morning when I left is not there now. Where did it go?  What do I do now? What can I do?  And yes, I know I sound vaguely like Scarlett O'Hara but the world pretty much gives back the answer Rhett Butler gave, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." 

For me, there are friends I can count on to help make sense of most things. They've been through it and they know what I'm feeling and thinking and what the next step ought to be, even if they don't say it quite that way. I've got strength  I didn't know I had until it was tested and I came through whatever it was that I wasn't sure I could handle. And I've got faith that somehow, some way, God will be there.

The nectar finally reached the right temperature to be put in the empty bottle and outside it went.  I hadn't even gotten it hung when I heard the unmistakable sound of hummer wings humming in my ear and saw the flash of iridescence not four inches from my nose. " 'Allo, wotcher got there?" Before I even got back to the door, the hummer tavern was open for business and customers were rotating in and out. Once again, all was well in the hummer world.

The "interesting" event up the street is over and now there's a big raw spot where a trailer stood for years. It's going to take a while before I get used to not seeing it there on the corner but I got to see it leave and that gives me some sense of closure. Still, things will be different now, even if not by much.

And God's still here. That's comforting beyond all words.