My mom’s in Hawaii right now: 60 degrees at night. Yum. …And here? Seventeen. That’s more than 40 degrees of separation! (But I’m not bitter.)
She keeps the hummingbirds year-round, which entails switching out frozen feeders. It would seem she didn’t expect another cold snap, so this morning I mangled my way through it. (Gold star for meeee!)
Hummingbirds rock. What they lack in size, they make up for in attitude. We like to sit on the deck and watch them feed, but it ticks them off; sometimes they just park themselves in the cherry tree and sass. (At us, and each other.) …And as for speed, they Own. One specie flaps its wings up to 90 times per second. NINETY! Per! Seck! Kond! David says the only thing that comes close is a bumble bee; his jaw dropped one time when he saw a hummingbird and a bee squaring off. That’s just crazy weird. It gives a whole new meaning to “You Can’t Touch This.” That loud hum in my ear nearly drops me to my knees, and they’re pretty, too (especially the males).
Hummingbirds are some of the most amazing Creations that “…you can’t touch:” right up there with sunsets, humans, orchids, puppies, and the Grand Canyon. Even the best stuff we make ourselves is laughable compared to God’s designs. I could come up with a list of favorites, but all of it pales in comparison: roller coasters, cookies, warm towels, pizza, live music, an envelope full of unexpected cash…. Good stuff. But seriously: even the finest builder, baker, or candlestick maker can’t crash a wave, arrange an orbit, shoot a star, or raise the dead. Nor can he manufacture hummingbirds. You Can’t Touch This.