The Messenger

Two tiny eyes tracked me as I walked out to the edge of the bluff.  It was a sensation, at first.  That slight inkling that even though you are seemingly alone, you are not alone, and that there is someone, something focusing in on you.  Oftentimes when this feeling arises, I glance around only to find that I am only imagining things, that there truly is no one else there.  But still, there is that strange sensation.  That feeling.  That whisper.  And so, on this day, I paid some extra attention to the feeling.  I slowly did a 360 degree spin.  At first with my eyes open and then, with my eyes closed taking in all of the surrounding sensations.  My palms raised up towards the sun.  Breathing in the freshness of the ocean air.  Allowing the whisper of a breeze to tickle my skin.  When I stopped, I stood for a moment with my eyes still closed.  Enjoying the sensation of not-aloneness.  And then, with my feet planted firmly on the earth, I opened my eyes.

There she was perched on the smallest wisp of a branch.  She, with the two tiny eyes, watching me.  Observing me.  Curious, but not afraid.  A beautiful little Hummingbird.  The one that I have written about here before.  The one who calls the bluff outside of my home, her home.  The one who buzzes playfully around my head on days when the air is still and the sun is especially hot, beckoning for me to fill her feeder with the cherry red nectar that she loves so much.  We observed each other for what seemed like a very long time.  Two members of two very distinctive species.  Yet in her eyes, I could feel her saying, "I see you."  Not through you, or around you, but you.

And then she did something that I have never witnessed a Hummingbird do before.  With her feathers translucent in the sunlight and her eyes still keenly focused upon mine, she began to stretch wide.

She raised her delicate wings upwards towards the sunshine as she fluttered her brilliant feathers apart.  Her miniature, four inch body became as expansive as it could possibly become.

As she clung with her talons to the edge of the tiny branch, we continued to observe one another.  No fear, no threat, no aggression.  Just genuine curiosity and admiration.

Acknowledgement.

And as her wings relaxed, her lightening-speed tongue which is shaped like the letter "W", shot around in the air in front of her, as if to take in even more of her environment.  Tasting, sensing, feeling.

Connecting.

And there we both rested.  Eye to eye.  Spirit to spirit.  No longer wondering who might be watching us, but seeing, really seeing.

Knowing by the tangibility of two clearly focused eyes, being reminded, that we are not alone.  That we are being watched and guarded and held in loving, albeit curious regard by beings that we might not fully  understand.  We are kindred spirits yet which one of us is the messenger?  Which one of us was sent to bring ease and peace to the other?

For another several minutes in our newly relaxed states, we continued to regard one another.  Me, standing as still and as serenely as possible.  And the Hummingbird, gently turning her head from side to side so that she could contemplate me with both of her eyes.


How often is it that we really feel seen?  How often do we regard one another with a feeling of awe and mutual respect?   How often do we open our eyes for long enough to understand that we are not alone even when it feels as if we might be?

How often?

When the moment was right, the little Hummingbird checked deeply into my eyes for one more second, and then nonchalantly spread her wings and flew.

I was left standing alone, but not alone.  A feeling of reverence and deep appreciation remained imprinted upon my soul.  A feeling of lightness overtook me and for a moment, just as the Hummingbird had done, I felt as if I, too, might actually be able to take flight.