A Hummingbird Lands on a Twig

This morning walking my cat Nobiya, a hummingbird buzzed about 3 feet in front of us and landed delicately, lightly, perfectly on a tiny bare twig, barely an eighth of an inch in diameter, sticking out from a small tree. 

I often snap those twigs off as we walk, tidying up the place.  A clean, easy snap, so satisfying.

It never occurred to me they served a purpose just as they were.

Nobiya, crouching and looking straight out at the ground, doesn’t even appear to notice the bird.  I stand in awe, watching.  The bird’s throat is green, then a flash of scarlet, then green, back and forth, in sync with tiny movements of its head.  A ruby-throated hummingbird, I think, as the words come slowly back to me from the hours I spent as a child looking at pictures of birds and memorizing their names.  Minutes pass.  I make a micro-move, and the bird buzzes to the next tree and sits down on another tiny twig.

I will never thoughtlessly snap off those twigs again.  They make fine perches.