I Loves Me Some Hummingbirds

I don't ride much after work. Usually my time is before or during lunch, but yesterday I had a tiny window of opportunity of nothingness around 5pm so I took it. I rode a quick little hour of Pinehurst loop, which when it's really hot is almost like a nice little swim. Lots of pretty trees, deep down in the canyon with some nice pockets of lower temp micro-climates.
While I was riding I thought about my little hummingbirds.
Lately I've been spending time in the garden weeding and stuff. We have a water fall in the back and with it we get lots of little visitors - mostly hummingbirds. They're very talkative. And they like to whip around me when I'm out there low to the ground.
My sister was over the other day and she noticed all the hummingbirds and she snickered and made some comment about how I finally have some of my own hummingbirds.
------------------------------------------
One summer when we were kids, we went on a series of organized Saturday hikes around the Bay with this nature lady called Mrs. Terwilliger. She was famous in our parts. We'd drive out to Marin and meet her somewhere and spend the Saturday hiking and learning about the local plants and animals and marshlands and tide pools and blah, blah, blah.
Lots of families would show up. As a kid it was a great learning experience.

Before we went on each hike as we were arriving, she'd be pulling out all the "animals" from her VW bus, arranging them on the ground. We'd talk about each of the animals that we'd probably see on our hike that day, what they did, how the lived in the environment, blah, blah, blah.
They were the real deal animals. Dead and stuffed. And glued on platforms. We were always a little creeped out by this. But we'd pet them anyway and listen to her stories. And when she was done talking, as we were getting ready to go on the actual hike, we'd help her put them pack in her bus.

One time I stole some of the stuffed hummingbirds. Yanked them right off their wooden platform.
They were so soft and so cute and so still and so dead and as I was helping put the animals into her van I slid them into my coat pocket. And all through the hike I kept my hand in my pocket, petting their soft little fur and holding their soft little bodies.
When we got home, I found a shoe box, wrapped them up in some soft paper towels and put them in and hid them on the top shelf of my closet. Each day I'd pull them out, unwrap them carefully and put them in my pocket and keep them there all day during school, petting them and carrying them in my hands. They were my little friends.
At home I'd wrap them back up carefully and put them in their box for the night. Sometimes I'd pull them out late at night and pet them and look at their dead, stuffed little bodies and their bulging eye balls. I wondered how they'd died. And how they stuffed them. I'd pet their little backs over and over again.
This went on for a few weeks. My own little hummingbirds. I loved them so much.
Until the day my mom was looking for something in my closet and found them. When I came home from school that day, there they were in the kitchen, unwrapped and standing on the counter staring at us as we came in.
Shit.
The hummingbirds sat on top of the fridge for the rest of the week. I saw them every time I went to get something to eat or drink. They were there staring at me.
The next week at the nature walk, I had to bring them back. I wanted to just try and slip them into the van as we were putting the animals away again. I noticed that there were no other hummingbirds. Apparently I'd stolen the only 2 she had.
But my mom had other ideas. So as Mrs. T was setting all the animals up and starting her talk I was forced to raise my hand in front of the entire group of 30 hikers, including a neighborhood family who we were good friends with, and tell Mrs. T that I'd stolen the dead hummingbirds and that I was returning them because stealing was wrong. I walked into the middle of the circle and placed the two birds down next to the other dead birds and walked back to my place in the circle.
I don't even remember what happened next, because of course in that sort of situation you're mortified to even be alive. I'm sure I just closed my eyes and pretended to be back in my room at home petting my stuffed animals.
Jeezus.
To this day, my sister and brother still tease me about it. The time I "stole the stuffed hummingbirds" and carried them around in my pocket, petting them all day and talking to them, calling them George.
And now I watch these little hummingbirds in my backyard and I hear them talking as they buzz around me and I continue to ignore them and go on my merry way.