Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I have great admiration for the little hummingbird who made it’s nest outside in the ficus tree near my kitchen window. Since it’s getting to be St. Patrick's day, I’ll call her Patty. During yesterdays storm the wind kicked up and while her tree sits under the eave of the house Patty didn’t get wet. However, she did go for one hell of a roller coaster ride. I watched as she was pitched up and down, forward and sideways, and then between downpours she’d dutifully repair the nest and settle back in for more.

    This morning when I went out to enjoy the orange blossoms and fresh air, guess who was ever vigilant? Patty, sitting prettily, eyed me. A kind of I see you you see me one on one thing. She left me alone for a few minutes then decided enough’s enough. I had ventured away from her nest into the yard to stand under the pepper tree, (which is a behemoth of a tree), and Patty followed.

    She stood about four feet away from me at eye level and gave me a good chirping to. I listened but went about my business, then again, (is there some kind of hummingbird manual?) she flew right above my head and was ready to do her duty when I skidaddled back into the house. I remembered the consequences of a former encounter and I wasn’t going down that path again.

    Her nest held up beautifully in the rain. It’s shaped perfectly like a tiny tea cup.

    Photo: my husband with a new look called the twofer Sherlock Holmes baseball cap. Necessity is the mother of invention. The trash cans had blown over in the rain.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.