A Million Beats of Beauty a Minute

To make up for the burst of ugliness that I spewed forth below, I give you a moment of pure perfection.

Consider the tiny hummingbird. Less than a few ounces, it still catches the eye like no other bird with its emerald sheen and the shush of its busy wings. I've stood in a hummingbird "garden" in Costa Rica watching hundreds of these little birds zip perilously close to my face, their long, firm beaks like miniature missiles created not to hit their target, but to tauntingly miss it at the very last minute. They can fly forward, backward, up or down, or just hover in the air as if to say "Oh, what, other birds can't do this? Suckers!" All the while getting buzzed off the pure sugar nectar that semi-suburbanites like myself leave for them on our tiny balconies. The hummingbird may be the size of a circus peanut, but I wouldn't want to challenge one to a fight. I prefer to sit quietly on my porch, trying not to breathe, watching the whispery wings of the hummingbird work their helicopter magic.


Your moment of Zen.