When the little fragment of feathers we call a Hummingbird spies that red color in the tree branches, she knows by instinct that something nourishing, refreshing and tasty might be inviting her for a stop. She investigates. And, sure enough, the drink tastes wonderful She perches on the red railing, aligns her long beak with the small hole that is the opening to the sweet liquid, and then, bowing low to make sure her long tongue touches the sweetness, she takes her fill. She bows, as if she knows to be appreciative, to say thank you. I’d like to think that her bowing is not just a physical necessity, but also an inherent recognition of how life provides for her blessing and welfare. The red feeder did not appear in the branches all by itself. It was put there by hands and a heart of caring, and she “bows” in gratitude for the common thoughtfulness that connects all living things.
The source of that benevolence and caring? Practically, someone who appreciates and admires these tiny fragments of life, someone who prepares the feast and hangs it in the tree. More than that, though….did you notice the hanger that holds the feeder.
What does that tell you?
Shining Spirit 
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