With pictures to choose from, an image and tale emerge:
A Picture’s Tale
It was late in the day. Time for me to go out into the garden and trim the flowers, pull the weeds and clear away the brush from the soil left by digging of moles, chipmunks, and that pesky raccoon that haunts my garden each night. The sky was clear and there was barely a flow of air. Sweet aromas filled the air wafting from the flowers that bloomed this spring. The solitude of working in my private patch of wilderness bringing peace to my soul.
As I stop to rest for a while, the stillness is broken by the humming of wings in the air. I try not to move with any sudden motion as a small but colorful hummingbird flits by. It stops mid-flight right in front of me, hovers for a moment, then moves quickly from side to side checking out all aspects of my visage trying to determine friend or foe, animal or plant, food source or inanimate obstacle.
I remain perfectly still. I can hear the buzzing of its wings as it circumnavigates my head determining its next step.
It decides I’m not something to be threatened by and slowly moves to the nearest flower within my sight and drinks in its sumptuous nectar.
I hear the high pitched chirps as the nectar flows from flower to bird. It stops periodically to hover again by my head examining it for any signs of life. Then back to the flower, until its hunger is temporarily sated and flies on.
The afternoon’s work is done for it and me. Back to the house, the cup of tea that awaits and the beauty of life left behind.
