Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Man, moon and hummingbird


Last weekend two things made me sad.  I heard that Neil Armstrong died and so did one of my hummingbirds.  Katie and I were sitting on the deck reading a book.  Well.  I was reading and she was napping.  The hummingbirds were buzzing around, chasing each other away from the feeder.  A female hovered right in front of my face and stared at me for a bit.  I wasn’t sure how many hummers we had, they moved so fast; zipping through the trees, over the house, back again to the feeder.

When I got up to go back into the house Katie sniffed at what I thought was a leaf on the deck, but wasn’t particularly interested.  I glanced over at the leaf and realized with a breaking heart that it was one of my hummingbirds.  There was a tiny spot on the window, and the poor bird was lying dead on the deck.   I was overwhelmed with grief out of proportion to my actual loss.  I love watching my hummers at the feeder.  They are there because I put the feeder there.  This poor little female was dead because I put the feeder there.

I picked her up and stroked her soft feathers.  She weighed nothing at all.  But she was beautiful.  The sun made her feathers glow, and I took her down the hill and put her on a nest of thistle fluff at the base of an oak tree along with a flower from the garden we passed.  I wanted her feathers to glow with the last rays of the sun just a little longer.  One last time.

I cried the whole time I mowed the yard.

When the sun slipped behind the trees I buried her, along with some flower petals and a bit of goldenrod, beneath our butterfly bush.  That evening I sent her on her way and hoped she and Mr. Armstrong were both flying over the moon.  The next day a male and a female hummingbird visited the feeder.  I wonder if they miss her.  I do.

Tonight as I watched the full moon swing up into the night sky I thought of them both.  And I winked, just the way his family asked us to.  God speed to you both Neil and my little one.  God speed.

Author: dawnkinster

I'm a long time banker having worked in banks since the age of 17. I took a break when I turned 50 and went back to school. I graduated right when the economy took a turn for the worst and after a year of library work found myself unemployed. I was lucky that my previous bank employer wanted me back. So here I am again, a long time banker. Change is hard.

4 thoughts on “Man, moon and hummingbird

  1. Oh my. How sad. I love “my” hummingbirds, and I’d be a mess if I lost one. How sweet of you to treat her with such love.


  2. I’m writing this through tears, Dawn. How sad that you found this tiny creature dead. Just this past week, we bought a hummingbird feeder and have had so much enjoyment from watching our guests feed at it. You were so kind to have treated her so gently at her end. I bet the other hummers were watching and now know yours is a safe place to be!


  3. it was weird – I was sitting outside the other day sipping a cup of tea when the teeniest tiny hummingbird flew right up to my face. I thought at first it was a bug but then when I realized it was hovering I knew it was a hummingbird. It was just a brownish color and only about two inches long… was amazing! It stayed for a while checking out all the flowers in the hanging baskets.


  4. You got me with that one, Dawn. I once found a chickadee in what appeared similar condition on my front porch. I lay him in my palm and stroked his tiny head, and, lo, afer a minute or so didn’t he being to stir. Then he staggered unsteadily to his feet, still in my hand. I placed him out of harm’s way and later found he had left to fly another day. I’m sorry your experience didn’t have as happy an ending.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.