A few minutes ago, while working on the deck, I heard the distinctive low buzz of a hummingbird. It was not, as usual, sipping the nectar from the feeder or plumbing the petals of the New Guinea impatiens. It was, as far as I can tell, taking a closer look at me.

These tiny birds are entering their final days in this part of the world. Every glimpse I have may be my last of the season. 

So when this tiny creature entered my air space, did a few star turns and hovered in front of me, I held my breath. It was a moment of transcendence, a moment of quiet communion. The bird, I’m convinced, was saying goodbye.

(An update on this post: I saw a hummingbird a full week later, so not quite goodbye then after all!)