Constants : The Hummingbird Feeder

My uncle gave me an old hummingbird feeder of my grandmother’s in 2020. I have taken pictures of it and the sweet creatures that stop by every spring, summer and fall in every location that I have lived since.  This feeder is one microcosm of all that has changed in my life.  It represents the willingness of family, through unconditional love, to help me on my journey, in small ways and large.  They gave me this gift, with instruction on how to use it, and then let me make my own way with it.  The first year I had grand success, feeding over 30 birds at a time, much to the shock and awe of my Aunt Sissy who let me know that I needed to clean it more thoroughly, or as she put it, “We try not to kill the birds, Casey.”  I carried it with me in the move to south Alabama and fed the hummingbirds from my third floor apartment patio.  They kept me highly entertained as I recovered from surgery.  There was one silly hummingbird that kept getting stuck in the rafters of the patio.  I had to guide it out of the ceiling using a broom, patience and trust.  I moved it once more and it is with me as I learn the headaches and joys of home ownership.  That feeder, those birds, hang out for three seasons of the year (and maybe one day I will live where it can hang all four) and reminds me of the love of my grandmother and my family, and the need to pass love on to other life.  The same uncle that gifted me the feeder destroyed it with a rock.  In all fairness, he was aiming for a squirrel. . . I shed a tear or five, but the spirit of the feeder will live on any time I spread love to the living beings in my yard, in my workplace, in my friendship circles, or in the wild of life itself.