She visits, but I never see her. The only evidence that she’s blessed my yard with her presence is the line of sugar water drops in the feeder I hang out for her. Even if she should come while I’m at the kitchen window, her shimmering green feathers are but a blur as she darts in, then zips away.
Though Oregon experiences fairly mild winters compared to some, most of our hummingbirds leave. The exception is the one I know visits my feeder on a regular basis. I had missed her and her calling card for several weeks and wondered if she were well and where she might be hanging out. The temperature had dropped below freezing several nights, so I hoped that she’d found a warmer spot to wait out the cold. But when the water line on the feeder dropped suddenly, I knew she had returned.
Knowing she is around gives me hope spring is not far behind. I’ve seen evidence in the daffodil spears poking through the ground. Other birds have exploded in cheery sound, their twittering a sure sign that nests are being built, families planned. Even my fuchsias have acted in foolhardy eagerness, sending up tender green leaves from their pots that hang in the loft of my garage.
I love the change of seasons for I know our heavenly Father put them in place. The psalmist, in a plea for relief from his oppressors, writes in Psalm 74:16-17: “The day is Yours, the night also is Yours, You have prepared the light and the sun, You have set all the borders of the earth, You have made summer and winter.”
Solomon felt the pull of the seasons as well. To his love he writes in the Song of Solomon 2:11-12: “For lo, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come.”
I am ready!