Years had passed since I retired from the real estate business. Although I enjoyed my time in real estate, I’m grateful for the experiences that shaped my career.
I spent a peaceful afternoon in the garden of my Cape George home, drinking tea as I contemplated life after my real estate career. A hummingbird’s quick wing movements interrupted my thoughts.
The sun warmed my face as I watched a hummingbird perform above wild lilies and blossoms hanging from trees. Its multi-colored feathers gleamed like polished gemstones. “Busy day?” I chuckled. To my surprise, the hummingbird darted closer, its tiny head, tipped with obsidian eyes, turned towards me.
“Busy is the only way to live, my dear little old lady.” The little birdie seemed to say. Or maybe it was just my imagination—who knew birds could become critics? But how did it recognize my aging look? It chirped back at me in that chirpy tone, though it didn’t speak a word.
The tiny feathered sage delivered its message loud and clear. It flitted from blossom to blossom, like a star auditioning for a nature film. It savored the nectar as the finest wine. Then it zipped to the next flower with a quick dart, like a kid dodging chores.
“You know,” I said, speaking aloud to a bird like some eccentric zookeeper, “not everything needs to move so fast. Sometimes, we humans like to… slow down. Relax.”
Hovering, the hummingbird backed up, wings whirring, then seemed to point before pausing, giving me a frustrated look. It then resumed its delicate work of pollinating flowers.
“Okay, point taken,” I muttered, lifting my tea to my lips. The tiniest scent of mint wafted from my cup, blending with lavender and dewy grass—the sensory backdrop to this odd dialogue. The tiny bird’s precision captured my attention. It showed no desire to linger on any single flower. It moved as if it had memorized a perfect schedule. The tiny bird displayed impressive efficiency and laser focus while creating effortless beauty in the air despite its survival needs.
A gentle blanket of quiet surrounded me, and I realized I’d stopped searching for answers—I was present. The hummingbird’s brief visit felt like a message from the cosmos, instructing us to value the present moment while seeking comfort in life’s hidden patterns. The space where it once moved became silent, yet kept its joy alive, showing how the world shared its hidden beauty amidst its uncertainties.
My spirits lifted as I left because the hummingbird’s vibrant energy lived inside me, and its rhythm mirrored the beat of my heart.
“Sometimes life’s most profound lessons often emerge in the simplest moments.”