His prowess was renowned among the hummingbird population
and great planning was instigated to distract him, sneak in and drink the
tempting cherry colored nectar. He could only chase away one bird at a time and
while thus involved, the others would reap the benefits and drink their fill.
But Little Hog was relentless and untiring in his self-proclaimed duty. That
was why he was the last to go.
He lifted his small head and tilted his curved beak into the
wind, listening to a distant call from far away, before he jumped onto the
feeder again and drank his fill. The
soft wind teased the leaves surrounding him and he glanced behind, forward and
sideways before he jumped to the branch once again, hunching his shoulders
slightly. He knew it was time to leave. His stomach was full, his body fat, his
babies grown and gone already. He was sure no one else would come and steal his
food because he was the only one left behind.
He looked at the window in the house and for some inexplicable
reason, flew toward it, hovering a bare few inches from the glass pane, as if
to find something important inside before he left. As he waited, he saw what he
was looking for, the person on the other side, the person who kept the feeder
full of delicious, nutritious food. He
dashed in a circle as if saying goodbye and thank you, and then, Little Hog
flitted back to the tree, turning once more to see the window before he lifted,
fast and high, into the summer blue sky and was gone.
© 2013 Linda Gatewood
