Then farmer C. arrived. I mentioned the event unfolding in the bathroom. He disappeared from view and then I noticed C. sitting outside with the hummingbird held tenderly in hands. Something quiet and peaceful about C.'s concentration and this little hummer.
Something told me to keep watching. Something special was happening.
I suddenly realized that the contrasts in this scene were
inspiring me. The size of man vs. tiny bird. The roughness of the farmer's hands vs the fragility of this soft bird. The sacrifice of compassion vs the will to survive.
Until I couldn't watch anymore. I left and came back periodically to check on them.
It was almost as if C. was trying to heal and encourage the bird. Giving it a safe and warm place to gather the confidence and allow the life it had before.
A private whisper for bird
Then after about 20 minutes just after I took this picture
It buzzed off! A miracle!
Overjoyed, I ran outside and told C. how I had been inside taking pictures all along and how fantastic I thought that the hummer flew off, when I noticed C. had tears in his eyes....
I didn't mention it again until a few days later. I asked him what had occurred between him and the bird during that time. He only said, "I was concerned." I knew he had been a black belt martial arts teacher years ago and asked him if that's where his concentration was learned. "You could say that." He replied. "Was it a male or female? Do you know?" I asked. "It was a male." Hmmm, I thought. Maybe he was so mysterious because it was some sort of male bonding thing? I'll never know...