Prefer to watch? You can watch this week’s reflection on YouTube instead.
I’ve apparently reached the age where I look forward to sitting in the backyard and watching the hummingbirds. And I’m completely fine with that.
We’ve had two hummingbird feeders in our backyard for about a year and a half. Most of that time, we’ve had one or two regular visitors. One would show up, hover for a few seconds, take a drink, and disappear again. But over the past week or so, that has changed.
Now there are sometimes five or six of them around at once. They dart between the feeders, chase each other across the yard, disappear into the trees, and come flying back a few minutes later. At times it’s like watching an aerial dogfight. They create an amazing amount of commotion for something so small, and I love watching it.
I’ll sit outside and look up whenever I hear that familiar buzz go past me. One tries to claim a feeder until another comes swooping in, and then they’re off chasing each other across the yard. A few seconds later they’re all gone, and I find myself waiting for them to come back.
I’m pretty sure there was a point in my life when this would not have qualified as entertainment. Sitting in the backyard watching birds probably would have felt like doing nothing. I needed more activity, more plans, somewhere to go. If nothing was happening, I probably felt like I should find something to make happen.
I still enjoy being busy. In fact, my life is pretty full these days. I like having things I’m working on and places I need to be. I like looking forward to a trip, going out to dinner, spending time with people I care about, or having something on the calendar that I’m excited about. But somewhere along the way, I also started getting a lot more pleasure from things that are much simpler.
A cup of coffee outside. A conversation that isn’t rushed. Sitting with my dog. A quiet morning when I don’t have to be anywhere right away. Five hummingbirds fighting over two feeders.
None of those things is particularly exciting. I probably wouldn’t have even thought to include them if someone had asked me years ago what brought me joy. But they count now. Some days they’re exactly the kinds of moments I find myself looking forward to.
I suppose that’s one of the things I appreciate about getting older. I haven’t lost interest in doing things, and I certainly don’t want life to be quiet all the time. I think I’ve just gotten better at enjoying what’s already there. Maybe my definition of a good moment has simply gotten bigger. More things seem to qualify.
There’s one part of all this hummingbird activity I don’t like quite as much. I know why there are suddenly so many of them. Toward the end of summer, they start eating more as they get ready for their long migration south. All of this activity that I’m enjoying so much also means that before too long, they’ll be gone.
It may seem silly, but that makes me a little sad.
I’ve gotten used to having them around. They’re part of what summer looks like in our backyard now. I notice when they show up. I notice when I haven’t seen one for a while. And apparently I’ve become invested enough in these tiny birds that I’m already thinking about the fact that they’re going to leave.
I guess that’s what happens when something becomes part of your everyday life. It doesn’t have to be a major event or some big experience to matter. Sometimes you don’t even realize how much you enjoy something until you know you’re about to miss it.
I’m sure next spring I’ll start watching the feeders again and wondering when the first one will show up. And when it does, I’ll probably be ridiculously happy to see it.
For now, they’re still here, darting around the backyard, chasing each other away from feeders that apparently aren’t big enough for everybody, and giving me something I genuinely enjoy watching.
So I’m going to keep sitting out there.
It turns out this qualifies as a pretty good way to spend some time.
