Joy?

Early one morning last week, on one of my usual walks with the two Dogs, I met a Hummingbird.  Or should I say the Hummingbird met me? He had a message to impart.

I'm not sure I would have noticed him, had he not made his position as clear as he did.  Hummingbirds are prolific in the early Spring...they arrive early in the season, even if the liquid in Hummingbird feeders still freeze at night.

I am accustomed to them speeding around the place. Their buzzing noise, a little louder than the huge, bumbling Bees that are also prolific, gives me a heads up that one of them is near. And with their first arrival, it is magical. 

Upon the first sighting, everyone rushes to fill the feeders; during one of the first trail walks I took when we moved here, I found a feeder hanging from a Tree far from any dwelling. And it was filled with fresh nectar...at the time I wondered if the feeder would draw a Bear or two. But the only creature feeding upon it was the Hummingbird, that I could discern.

But the Hummers have been here for a long while now...at least a couple of months. I'm accustomed to the sound of their wings and rarely look up to watch in wonderment any more. There are so many of them, you see...after awhile, they become commonplace, a part of the twittering, tweetings, buzzings, chirpings and sharp calls that abound in the mornings.

I planted many Seeds this year, right into the Earth, rather than starting them indoors. But, as soon as I planted them, I forgot which and where. I tell myself every year to find a scribbler and write down which Seeds I've planted; every year I skip that step. And every Spring, my memory gets worse...

So I had my head down, intently searching for the first signs of something lifting its head up through the Soil. The World recedes then; I am completely in the moment, completely oblivious to anything other than willing the Seedlings to grow.

I was dimly aware of hearing a Hummingbird close by. And then I heard the swish of Air, just a little closer than normal.

Closer than normal is right.  I was completely startled when the Hummer landed upon my head. I was not sure exactly what to do...I was bent over, my head close to the almost blossoming Tulips. Did the Hummer mistake my head for one of those blossoms? Should I brush it off? Thoughts ran through my mind, speeding as if they had taken wing as quickly as the Hummingbird.

I heard it twitter once or twice. I was worried it might get tangled in my hair, which is shoulder length and was up in an untidy bun. What was I to do then, should the Hummer get caught in hair and clips?

There was nobody around, other than the Dogs, who watched the whole debacle with interest...and a bit of humour, if I'm not mistaken. There was no one to come to my aid.

Within a very short time, although it felt like eons, the Hummer, with a sharp tweet, took off, speeding his erratic way through the Trees. And I was left with...you guessed it...Hummingbird excrement, mixed in with my hair.

For that tiny Hummer, there seemed to be a lot of it. I touched my hair and discovered a small, gooey blob right in the middle of my head. I dashed it off, only to feel liquid running down the side of my face. He had left his calling card, in spades!

The Dogs laughed and laughed, dancing around me, sneezing and huffing. As I walked into the house to take a shower, I wondered what on Earth that Hummingbird thought he was doing.

Had I wandered too close to a nest? Hummers are territorial and most species are fighters...sparring for feeder rights with other kinds as soon as the feeder is put outside. But I've been in that particular area many times, before and after the incident. And have never had problems with any Bird, Hummer or otherwise.

My hair is grey, glinting silver from Sun's rays upon it. Could he have thought my head was some kind of untidy, exotic Flower? Could he have been attracted to the colourful clip that was trying to contain hair that wouldn't be captured? Others have grey hair...do Birds alight on their heads, as well?

I'll never know. But I do know the Hummer's message is inner Joy.

From this site, I read about the Hummer and the other messages he gives.

His first message is to taste and enjoy the sweetness of life...life as it is, not what I wish it to be. I am to make the most of what is.  The Hummer tells me to be more adaptable; he tells me I am not to look back in life and wish for what was.

And then there is that inner joy I am to find and project to others. I am proficient, he tells me, at finding the good in life's situations for other people. Now I must learn to find the good in me and my situations.

He tells me I have a gift for working with flowers...he suggests aromatherapy as an adjunct. He warns me to take care with sweets...I am diabetic, so the little warning was taken.  But why does he not worry about overdoing it with that nectar he is constantly guzzling back? Never mind that his energy output is phenomenal!

I believe strange interactions with the Animal Kingdom should not be overlooked, and so I take Hummingbird's message seriously. He was right to remind me to take what is and not try and change it for my own satisfaction; rather I will try and accept circumstances as they are right now.

Perhaps I am thick-headed...perhaps I was not hearing or accepting what I knew to be true. And having the Hummingbird relieve himself on my head certainly brought the message to the forefront.

He had some words of wisdom to impart, this Hummer.

It is up to me what I do with the wisdom Creator tried to send, so uniquely.

And now? Now I keep my eyes and ears open when Hummingbird flies past...

Who Were They?

This morning my horoscope advised me not to whine.

I am known for my deep ability to whine and whimper over not getting my way. So I decided to practice acceptance of conditions the Universe decides to send my way.

It's Wednesday. Usually, I would have travelled to visit my daughter and grandchildren today.

The aberrant weather, however, warned me not to attempt the trip...weather warnings were posted everywhere, of a huge Snow storm blanketing the area.

We received some Snow last week, which melted into slush during the following sunny days...and then froze overnight. The roads are sheets of Ice, in the morning. As difficult as it was...Wednesday mornings with my family are infinitely precious to me...I stayed at home.

Did I whine? Yes. Did I complain? Yes. For awhile, I forgot I wasn't to do this. In my befuddled state this morning, I told Graham I was going to make Lemons out of lemonade. He wished me luck.

Hmmm...

On my way to answer correspondence on the computer, I happened to glance out the office window, just in time to see the Snow plough blade hit the recycling box stationed at the side of the road for pickup. Cans and bottles and papers settled in the snow, and the blue box ended up upside down a fair distance from where it originally sat.

The plough carried on, faster than most vehicles drive on this road. A few choice words found their way past my lips, until I remembered...no whining and whinging.

This is where things got a little strange. Weird. Goosebumpy, even.

There was nothing for it, but to go and pick up the recycling. Certainly the snow plough guys were not going to come back and fix what they did. It was up to me, complaints or not.

As I picked up the cans and whatnot, I noticed, very suddenly, that there were people around me. I wondered where they came from...it was very early, the morning still darkened by ferociously cold weather.

But I'd my head down, so I assumed they were out for walks...until I remembered seeing this same group of people the time our garbage can had been overturned, and I was out picking up garbage. They had a familiar energy signature...I had met them before.

We discussed the shameful practice of having a snow plough hit the recycling container. I was advised to call the Town to complain. I demurred, saying it was my day to not complain at each and every thing that occurred to me.

They muttered amongst themselves, as I continued to pick up the recyclables. Intending to change the subject, I brought up the weather. One man told me I would feel the East Wind soon and as he spoke, recycled papers went flying across the yard from a blast of Wind from the Ocean.

I turned my back on the group to chase down the papers, and when I turned back...there was only one gentleman there...

I glanced up and down the road...nothing. Only the howl of Wind.

The gentleman continued speaking, telling me he had lived not far from here long ago. He asked if there was still a problem with water running down from the Park. His voice rose with the sound of the rushing Wind. I answered as best I could, still searching for the other people. He did not seem concerned, just continued to pass the time of day. He told me it was a great time for a walk, but that I was to stay put and not go wandering off over the Hump, a word used by locals to describe the mountain pass I would have to travel over, in order to visit my daughter.

I wanted to ask him...What happened to the other people? Where did they go?

I was afraid he would answer...Who?

And when did I tell him I had thought of going to Port Alberni?

As addled as I was quickly becoming, I took a closer look at the man. His face looked as if it could break into smiles at any moment, it was wreathed in round wrinkles. He was dressed warmly, in what looked like those pea coats we used to wear, way back in the sixties. He wore a Homburg hat, a hat that looked very similar to the ones the gangsters in the movies wear. And he wore a green muffler. And he had on brown leather gloves.

He kept speaking...I felt I couldn't interrupt. As Wind picked up speed, as leaves flew and my hair loosened from its braid, he told me the Hump was going to be a mess, this afternoon. He smiled, said...Be thankful you're not on that highway. Better to stay put.

I only nodded my head, wondering how he knew I was considering making the trip after lunch.

By this time, my eyes were as big as basketballs, but he remained cheery. He lifted his hand, wished me a good day, and walked away, along the road. I watched him for a minute, wondering if he would disappear as well, but he was still there as I walked back into the house.

Who were the others...where were the others? I know all my neighbours, by sight, at least. They were not my neighbours, and there wasn't a house that they could suddenly walk into, either, unless it was mine.

And who was this amazing man?

In the long run, perhaps it doesn't matter. This episode took me aback because it happened when I was fully aware. I wasn't sleeping, and receiving messages from figures that appear to me in my dreams.

I wasn't meditating or journeying, wherein I am able to travel to other realms and where seeing people surrounding me is a matter of course.

I was wide awake. In the early morning cold...busy picking up recyclables. Fully in touch with my surroundings.

I believe these people were warning me. In my headstrong manner, where my heart ruled my mental acumen, I had considered travelling over the Hump in the afternoon. Perhaps I may have been involved in an accident, perhaps it was not the time to challenge the weather.

Who were they?

All I know is, allies and guardians show up in all shapes and sizes.

And I'm grateful.