Yesterday when I joined my friends for Thanksgiving dinner it was raining hard. But the weather was mild, and amid the final flurry of preparations for twenty people to dine buffet style, their kitchen door stood open to the back garden.
Hanging under the shelter of the small roof that covers the back steps is a hummingbird feeder. While our host finished carving the turkey, I stood briefly with my hostess looking out at the rainy garden. Within the comfort of long friendship, we gazed into the rain without speaking.
The hedged garden was populated as usual with Douglas squirrels and a variety of birds. First we watched the "Dougies,"as my friend calls them, as they scurried back and forth across the paving stones. Then I noticed the swooping of small birds against the dark green hedges.
"Don't move," Daphne's voice spoke quietly in my ear.
I followed her eyes and saw a hummingbird hovering near the feeder. We both stood still as the tiny bird came closer. Soon it was sipping nectar, first from the feeder, then from flowers in a hanging basket still in bloom.
I had never been so close to this tiny bird. Showing off its iridescent throat feathers while it whirred its wings and sipped with its long beak, the creature was only inches away. Truly a privileged glimpse of the bird world, and another reason for Thanksgiving.
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