So long. Farewell. Auf wiedersehen. Adieu.
I won't be hanging out much at the Clothesline this month. Car trip. Southwest. Grand Canyon and environs. Looking forward to it. Talking like Bush. Stop it. Now!
Saying goodbye is hard for me. When I was a kid, my parents used to put me on the train (the Empire Builder, actually) several summers in a row to visit my very cool grandparents in Fargo. I was so excited about the trip. Even so, I cried all the way out of the station. I bounced back before we rolled out of the Twin Cities, though. And then, when it was time to come home, I sobbed at the Fargo station. I am an equal opportunity bawl-baby.
A couple of days ago, we were eating dinner when one of "our" tiny hummingbirds perched at the window feeder (photo is mine, though it's a different bird from a different day). She seemed to be staring back at us. Given our eyeball ratio, it was hard to tell if we were making eye contact. But it felt that way. She hung around for quite a while. Longer than usual. I knew she was saying goodbye. Getting ready for the long migration south. And as I became more certain that she was really leaving, big tears plopped onto my pork chops. Suddenly, she flew away. She has not been back.
Yesterday, I brought in the hummingbird feeders. It was time for the sad annual ritual of emptying, cleaning and putting them away until spring.
I think the hummingbirds will be back. I know they'll be back.
Hummingbirds give me hope.