Hummingbirds are zooming into the brilliant-red bee balm in my backyard garden. The tiny birds’ high vibration works with sight and sound beyond human range of perception, sharing only their deeper resonance. I thought they were dancing together among the flowers until, with more attention, I noticed they were not sharing their favorite blossoms. They were greedy for the sweet summer nectar that must fuel them in the moment and for migration.
Yesterday, on my walk to the pond, I marveled at the huge spider webs that span the high banks of the barn. Some had gaping holes in them. Was their silk harvested to line the hummingbird nests? I saw no hummingbird casualties beneath them. I read the other day that hummingbirds and spiders are mutual predators and prey. The human world reflects their codependence.
Did you know that hummingbirds hover and fly in figure eights? Eight is a sacred number in many wisdom traditions and a symbol used for eternity. No wonder hummingbirds are considered to be healers. They mirror back to us our full range of experience, from fear and anger to love and joy — the abundance of life. They inspire us with their perseverance and endurance to hold all that we are and the possibility of what we could be: beautiful, light-beings of high vibration. Hummingbirds pollinate our blossoming, weaving us ever closer to our true selves and to each other. They are a welcome reminder for me, as I hover around a family member, caregiving post-op.
Window alerts in the form of hummingbirds decorate a large window in my house. Wild birds see the iridescence of the opaque decals and avoid collision with the glass. The alerts reflect the beauty and the boundaries of their avian inspiration. They are notably helpful this time of year when birds celebrate the harvest and over-indulge on the fermenting, Mountain Ash berries nearby!
Speaking of celebrating, I began to write this on August 8, 8-8, my sister’s birthday. I called her right after breakfast. Fairly close in age, we have not always been good friends. That changed after our parents passed in 2004. On the phone, we shared how we are both navigating our lives consciously not knowing what the future will bring, next week, next month, or in the years to come. It was a good second start to my day.
Years ago, Jack Kornfield told me that the more we open our hearts, the more we need healthy boundaries. That sounds like hummingbird wisdom to me. On her birthday, my sister went for a walk with my nephew and his young family in a beautiful place I know well—a lovely way to celebrate. I hope they heard and saw lots of hummingbirds and flowers. When we next speak, I will ask her how she feels about spiders.