Pickle, Ruby, Nanico and Bob. They’re my new friends and Netflix-substitutes. Insatiably thirsty, fearless and feisty, these guys sweep, zoom, fight and flirt, making an incredible amount of noise considering they’re the size of my finger.
As far as I can tell, they represent three different hummingbird species. Pickle a bright iridescent green, and Nanico is the not-so-clever newcomer (keeps trying to drink from the colourful string of light bulbs we have hanging out front) named after the miniature bananas I remember having in Brazil (he-or-she is yellow, and “Nanico” also means “little guy” in Portuguese).
Today I spotted another green one, even smaller than pickle. I shall name him Cornichon — should he become a regular at our feeder.
Watching their antics as they become part of my isolated world (or perhaps as I become part of theirs) reminds me that it’s all going to be OK. Nature knows exactly what it’s doing. How else could you hope to explain the utter heart-breaking perfection of a hummingbird? Mother knows best.
Maybe the virus is her way to tell us to slow the f**k down and take a good look around. And maybe, just maybe, to quit shitting on the planet while we’re at it.
We probably won’t get the message, but I, for one intend to enjoy the show.
#QuarantinedThoughts is a random series of ramblings and reflections brought about by a mild case of cabin fever. The author currently resides in an Oregon field with her husband and “The Red Headed League” a family of Staffordshire Bull Terriers named after Sherlock Holmes characters.