There’s a hummingbird that likes to visit the peonies and irises that surround my patio. He – or she – is the most remarkable creature. Sturdy-looking, which seems strange to say given that this bird is the size of my thumb, or maybe just slightly bigger. But there’s something about the way it sits on the air, or seems to, wings fluttering almost too fast for me to see, holding it in place. He – or she – seems quite grounded, right there on the wing.

I have not yet captured it. In pixels, that is. Though I have taken to bringing my camera with me every single time I step outside for a breath of air or a moment of peace. It’s easier, though, to capture petals opening or the ant on the bud, than it is to capture this bird.

The hummingbird is not the only visitor I’ve got these days. There’s a pair of cardinals that have made their home here, as well as the woodchuck who’s still eating at the buffet-which-is-my-garden, but I haven’t succeeded taking a photo of any of these. Yet.

However I’m determined to do so before summer turns to fall and then winter wraps us in its frosty arms.

A few years ago we had an altogether different sort of visitor. A much larger one, and I did get a chance to take his picture. Actually, I managed to snap many pictures of him (or her). Moose don’t move terribly fast. At least this one didn’t. He (or she) meandered around the yard and drive and allowed me ample opportunity to document his (or her) presence. For which I love him. Or her.

You might think that delighting in the wildlife that visits your yard is a bit odd. Or you might not. I have no way of knowing which sort of a person you are. But whichever sort you are, I can tell you that I am the same sort.

Before I moved to this tiny town that I’ve called home for the past decade or so, I was most decidedly the sort that thought delighting in the wildlife that visits your yard was odd. In fact, I was the sort that thought that wildlife had no place in a yard at all. Pictures in magazines? That was fine. Real life? Not so much.

But my reality is now swarming with wildlife of all sorts, and I sort of love it. I’ve seen porcupines up close, mama deer with their babies in tow, and too many kinds of birds to count, plus quite a few skunks (in fact, we have one that’s moved in this summer, and yes, I’ve named her. And yes, I’ve also decided it is a her. And no, I have not gotten close enough to confirm this, nor would I want to. And also no, I am not planning on photographing her.)

I’ve seen cows crossing the road and blocking traffic while they amble across (okay not wildlife exactly, but still…), and very, very many chickens.

And of course my hummingbird. Who I’ve never – yet – gotten a picture of.

It is all delightful. And strange.

Delightful because, well, I find these creatures amazing and cool and beautiful and they make me smile.

Strange because I have never been the sort of person who would find them such.

But sometimes life plunks you down in a place and grace demands that you actually stop closing your mind and start opening your eyes and see her gifts, which you never really thought were gifts at all.

Grace is pushy like that, sometimes.

So now instead of doing the dishes I take walks. And I think that Grace thinks that’s okay. (The dishes can be done anytime, but walks in the morning just simply have to take place in the morning.)

Now, often, instead of staring at a screen while I eat lunch, I bring my lunch outside and stare at the flowers which I am sure that someday – someday soon – my hummingbird will approach slowly enough for me to bring camera to eye and focus lens for the perfect shot.

Now instead of bemoaning the fact that my entire town – literally my entire town – shuts down at 8:00 pm, I sit outside and watch the fireflies or the skunks or the leaves that dance in the breeze these summer nights.

And in this place where life has plunked me down, I find Grace’s gifts. Entirely different gifts than any I’d ever known before, but gifts just the same.

Grace is like that. Always.

No matter where you are, city or country or places where cows cross the street at odd hours and block traffic or places where hummingbirds delight you but refuse to be photographed.

Grace has her gifts.

If you just open your eyes and see.

~xo,
LuAnne