I just wanna fly

Author: natalie  //  Category: Baytown, Texas

It’s that time! The hummingbirds are here! I could sit and watch them all day.

Listening to them is pretty nice, too. They have a sweet chirp that never fails to put a smile on my face.

Those tiny creatures coupled with the time of year —Halloween in the air—make me feel a tad whimsical. And for a first-born stick in the mud, that’s a pretty big deal.

I feel a certain kinship with the hummingbirds as they dart to and fro. Most days I feel like that’s how I move—quickly and in too many different directions.

Folks observing would swear I was merely flitting about, but that’s not the case as I’ve lived long enough to learn it’s far easier to be hard at work than to give off only the appearance. That said: My physical movement is a slow-poke compared to what’s going on up in the old noggin.

 And the sounds I make, somehow I’m pretty certain a lot of my chirping (some close to me might call it carping) doesn’t induce smiles. I should work on that.

But what I’d really like to be able to do is fly like those little hummingbirds —as in actually sprout wings and soar through the clouds without being encapsulated in an airplane. If I could be shimmery and iridescent like a hummingbird, all the better.

Seems like life would be so much simpler if I could rise above the fray and make a beeline so fast all distractions besides the prized nectar became a blur.

I could probably use some lessons on how to get through prolonged life or death flight—like flying across the entire Gulf of Mexico without stopping—as well.  Or maybe I just need to learn to save the stamina for the things that are most important.

If only the tiny hummingbird could speak and tell me all its secrets. Who knows, maybe I could tell them a thing or two as well.

Not to mention I’d really like an answer straight from the birds’ mouths regarding those cute little feeders we put out: nectar dyed red or not? Silly details like that sometimes keep me awake.

But as much as I’d love to flutter some real wings, pretty sure I’ll have to settle for the seat of my britches variety of flying. Sadly, I’m not good at that…which causes the carping, which leads to me being called a flyer all right.

I won’t even need to hunt down a Halloween costume, but maybe I’ll get a new, iridescent and shimmering first-born broomstick in the mud!

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