As I sat outside my apartment, reading as usual, my eye was caught by a hummingbird. It floated in and out of the large, red flowers in the courtyard. Even comparing it to the flowers, it looked fragile and delicate. I was distracted from my reading for several minutes, just watching it. Even after it flew away, my thoughts took their time returning to my book. What I thought instead was red flowers, green leaves, the hum of wings, and the cool breeze of the morning. The world I live in can be so beautiful.
I read, sometimes, to escape the world. Yet this moment of life was too vivid to be caught in black words on white paper. The world does not always need to be escaped. It is not to be consumed or observed or described. It is to be experienced.
The hummingbird returned, this time with another. I watched them play, soft brown against bright green. The flowers became an adventure to them. I was once again caught in the moment and filled with joy to know the hummingbird was not alone.
