the greenest jewel

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I may not have a red tent, but I have a loving husband who gives me space, I have the luxury of the last days of my holiday, and I have the icy rain and snow out my window to recede any guilt of laying in bed all day with cramps. I know once I start work again, my ability to find the time to write will lessen, so I take advantage now and think upon the name for this blog “the greenest jewel”. While I spoke about it in the About section, I have more to say about this metaphor, this name for my favorite bird, the hummingbird. Like flowers, it is hard to find a bird that I don’t love. Bluejays are the bullies on the playground, but they are suited up so meticulously I find it hard to fault them, the sweet chickadees, ever faithful in their song, the blood red cardinal who breaks open my heart whilst sitting on a snow laden branch: I love them all. I literally worship with eagles and hawks, sending my prayers on their wings hoping they will caress the Creator’s ears. I find owls represent the mystery of the night, and the shadow side of myself that I am finally ready to greet and embrace. But the hummingbird slays all grief and I can’t help but be joyous in their presence.

The photo in the featured image is one of a hummingbird that was trapped inside my kitchen. I think my heart was racing as fast as its was when trying to capture it. I don’t know if this is fact or fallacy but I had heard that if you keep hummingbirds too still for too long that they can die. This likely misinformation was swimming in my head when I caught the little honey and let him go. He was then featured in my first American Sentences.

A hummingbird rests a top my flagpole and my heart starts to flutter.

I wonder if it is the same sweet jewel that I held in my hands.

Whether in my heart or in my hand, I can barely contain the joy.

And there is not adequate space in this sentence to speak about it.

As much as I have wanted to make a hummingbird tail fan to have in my medicine pouch, I could never harm these beings of magic. I had to capture one in my barn and also let him go. A third captured hummer made it into a response about the chemo carpool email for my friend Karen:

I just had to capture a hummingbird. We have a tent set up for our yard sale with a red dressing room which I guess is what attracted it. Hummingbirds represent joy to me. She was obviously getting very frustrated and didn’t seem to understand that she needed to fly down ward to escape. So I got a ladder and just held my hands up until she flew by close enough to grab. She cried. That is amazing to hear a cry like that from one of my favorite birds..Kai and Sati were helping me and we couldn’t believe how loud her cry was when I captured her.

I was able to let her go and we all watched her high tail it out of there..

To me, it is one big metaphor for Karen. We all care very much about her, and we all want to help her. She is like that little female bird right now that is in captivity at the moment, but I know with all of our love she will be flying and spreading her joy with us soon. It is sweet to see everyone’s concern and I am sorry if sometimes I leave Karen or others on or off of emails, but just seems easier to deal with a few people with all the responses of different schedules and then let everyone know when things are finalized,”

Last spring, I was sitting on my porch sharing with my friend Matthew the three times I held the hummingbird in my hand. I shared with him how I wanted to make a fan out of one of their tails. And then a week later I was on a class trip to Ithaca, where we visited an aviary and bird museum. There was a cabinet with about 30 different types of hummers. I was sharing with another parent how I love these birds and she shared back that she had just saved one, but that it didn’t survive because it had a broken wing. (photo the the hummer by her husband Brian). I really didn’t think anything of it, but later on the trip I decided that it was possibly my only chance to get the tail feathers so I asked her for them. She agreed to do a trade with me. Finally, I could make my fan which you also see at the top of this page. I am ever grateful to Jen for being open enough to make an exchange with me.

Perhaps more will come to speak of the prayer meetings we have had against fracking in New York. I have had two meetings here and attended two others. For the fourth meeting, I was able to wear my hummingbird fan and make a prayer that Governor Cuomo would step up as a world leader from our country and do the right thing. This prayer was answered. No fracking in NEW YORK!!

Possibly the best piece of news from 2014. I am so thankful.

Finally, I do get sad sometimes. Mostly for the ignorance and pollution and destructive behavior towards the Earth and therefore our future humanity. It can be overwhelming. And so the hummingbird also pulls from the nectar of my sorrow as well, pulling out the sweetness and understanding that to know joy, we must know sorrow as well.I don’t even remember why I was so sad. After sharing this poem of mine from 2009, my friend Trish called me and played Mozart over the phone.

I do not want to write this poem!

I have not the recent heartbreak of crushing loss

nor have I recently been reawakened by love.

The gushing waterfalls or fluttering sorrows have long dried up.

My luscious language of longing has long been silenced.

Many years have past since the breath of God has entered me

and my one easy reach to the divine has been clogged by a

symphony of dirt, laundry and grocery lists.

Even my dowry of inquisitive wonder has been spent.

How does one create a step ladder to the stars?

The poets of ere had but to look out at the endless sea

or spotted fields of gold to find their whispering muse.

But today I can not face the challenge.

No one, not even the hummingbird, can affect me.

SO …Enjoy even the heartbreaks, as they crack upon our hearts and make more room for joy. Happy 2015!

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