This is going to be completely random, but I can't get off my mind how much I HATE hummingbirds! We have delicious smelling yellow honeysuckle in our yard and a beautiful orange hibiscus vine blooming outside my bedroom window and they've both been hopelessly ruined by my peripheral glimpse of a flying rodent that causes birders and peace-lovers alike to swoon zealously.
Rodent, you say? Surely she's sleep-deprived and confused. She couldn't possibly be comparing this tiniest symbol of peace and love to a disease-carrying four-legged creeper! Oh, but I am! Their lithe, compact bodies, pointed faces, and quick jittery motions give me the heebie-jeebies. There's never a warning before one pops out in front of you. One minute you're hanging out in the backyard minding your own business and the next you're standing on top of the picnic table wondering what on earth just caused a panic in you (you're not sure, at first, because the blasted little birds are undoubtedly already gone and hiding in wait to scare the bejeebers out of you again as soon as you quit looking).
Oddly enough, these are the thoughts that have been on my mind the past two weeks. Then, a few days ago I bought some new notecards and was "greeted" with this egregious note from the designer:
Legends say that hummingbirds float free of time, carrying our hopes for love, joy and celebration. Hummingbirds open our eyes to the wonder of the world and inspire us to open our hearts to loved ones and friends. Like a hummingbird, we aspire to hover and savor each moment as it passes, embrace all that life has to offer and to celebrate the joy of everyday. The hummingbird's delicate grace reminds us that life is rich, beauty is everywhere, every personal connection has meaning and that laughter is life's sweetest creation.
Um, no. Sorry, but I'm not buying it. If you, one my good friends or loved ones, tried to bequeath me a hummingbird-esque gift, I'd honestly question what on earth I had done to offend you. The Google-search alone for an appropriate picture to include in this post has left me feeling like I need a shower.
And, yet,while I dream for fall to come quickly (sending off the hibiscus and honeysuckle and thus my little winged friends), I'm left with this significant understanding:
I do things differently.
The world through my eyes is uniquely me. A passage of scripture or line in a book studied and pondered in my mind always comes across differently than the person next to me. My passions aren't like everybody else's, and my goals are distinctly my own. Maybe I don't want the things every Mom/Woman/Wife on my block wants, but that's what makes me me. And I happen to be pretty happy with the person that makes me.
The world will keep on telling me that a hummingbird in a hibiscus tree is lovely. You won't be seeing me hang a sugar-water feeder anytime soon. However, if this is a subject we can agree to disagree, there's hope that some other off-the-wall thought in my mind will spark your curiosity...
Honestly, my skin was crawling
