At first there were two.
I couldn’t quite make out what they were as I didn’t have my glasses on. Having just slipped into the pool to find some relief for my back, and a day that found me largely asleep in bed, I only saw two forms fluttering about the cherry tree. I thought they were butterflies as I hastened to put my glasses back on.
Finding them again in the cherry, I saw that they were hummingbirds – a pair of them playing or fighting, I couldn’t tell which, and they were no less charming for whatever drama they were playing out. Flitting from thuja to cherry and back, they darted to and from each other, until one flew high above all the trees, zipped back, then did it again – back and forth to the other one, before they both took off.
One came back, but I’d already moved to the deep end of the pool, so I viewed it from afar. I saw it descend smoothly and surprisingly swiftly right toward me, so close I almost had to duck, its body solid and dark of color, its wings moving too quickly for me to discern, and then it suddenly stopped in mid air, pausing to poke its tongue into the flowers of the cup plant. A charming moment that made me involuntarily smile.
Slipping back underwater, I swam down and tried to let my back ease off itself. It had been a beautiful day – I should have spent more of it outside, I just didn’t feel like it.
After a few more slow laps to loosen up the limbs and relax the back, I floated languidly and listened to a third visitor who had just arrived – a cricket. Its chirping reminded me that the first part of summer was over. It’s the sound of August. Already an ending, and I’m still trying to be ok with it.
