The Last Pair of Hummingbirds

I'm sitting here on a picture-perfect September evening watching as the last pair of hummingbirds are doing  their acrobatics for their pleasure and certainly mine. I've watched as the numbers have dwindled down from eight at our height of the season and entertainment to this single pair. They have the same sprightliness about them, but the whole atmosphere is somewhat subdued. They're not flying nearly as much or chirping nearly as much as they do when the gang is all in attendance. I figure it's just a matter of time--probably days--until I walk out onto the deck and it will be motionless around the feeder. Ah, change...not always what we like, but inevitable.

Nevertheless, the same forces that cause the hummingbirds to fly to different locales this time of year are mighty refreshing to the human species. Sitting here writing, I could almost use a long-sleeved shirt; just about time to get out my trusty denim and then flannel shirts. Ah, change.

The days are certainly growing shorter as well. The luxury of sitting on the deck in the dusky hours between eight and nine and writing are now nearly an impossibility. When the daylight hours go away so much more quickly and show up in the mornings so much more slowly, it's difficult to get that last cup of tea scheduled in while pondering the day's events. Ah, change.

But now, as I look back into the house, I see a coziness that is missing in the heat of the summer months. The pressed coffee I just brought out to the deck for Tom and me to enjoy just tastes better on a cooler evening. Seeing the slow, transitioning sunrises always brings a smile to the heart and to the eyes.

Ah, change.