“It’s morning, and again I am that lucky person who is in it.
And again it is spring,
and there are the apple trees,
and the hummingbird in its branches.
On the green wheel of his wings
he hurries from blossom to blossom,
which is his work, that he might live.

He is a gatherer of the fine honey of promise,
and truly I go in envy
of the ruby fire at his throat,
and his accurate, quick tongue,
and his single-mindedness.

Meanwhile the knives of ambition are stirring
down there in the darkness behind my eyes,
and I should go inside now to my desk and my pages.
But still I stand under the trees, happy and desolate,
wanting for myself such a satisfying coat
and brilliant work.”
~Mary Oliver

It is not spring but I did have the pure blessing this morning to sit and observe hummingbirds. I have spent parts of the last couple days at a beautiful retreat center not far from where I live. Oddly enough I had never been to this place before and I was astounded by its beauty and serenity.

Sitting in the dining room you are surrounded by windows on three sides. Outside the windows birdfeeders hang along all the eaves of the roof. At one bluejays and grackles coexisted in that way that always amazes me. Why can’t humans who are as different as these two winged ones do the same? At another feeder filled with peanuts a downy woodpecker bobbed his head as he ingested his morning snack. A goldfinch here. A house finch there. Air born beings all around.

But it was the hummingbirds that had my attention. As I sat writing I was distracted over and over by their pursuit of sweetness. Their fragile little wings, beating at incredible speeds, had my eyes gyrating with their rhythm. How is it that I am privileged to coexist on this blessed earth with something so tiny, so beautiful? It seemed grace embodied.

As I watched I remembered that, of course, the poet Mary Oliver had sat as I was now sitting, held captive by the awe of these tiny creatures. Searching for her words I was once again filled to overflowing with humility by her ability to capture the wonder and mystery of this precious life. “It’s morning again, and I am the lucky person who is in it.”

Indeed, lucky. Blessed. Awe-struck. All of this and more. To be alive on such a day, filled with such brilliant green and vivid blue seems more than anyone should be allowed. Surrounded by all those with fluttering wings. And especially the ones with the green body and the ruby throat who know how to drink of the sweetness of life with such gusto.

May they continue to teach me their ways until I, too, am lifted to their majesty.