I stood at the kitchen sink this evening washing dishes and gazed out the bay window as a tiny humming bird darted from lantana blossom to lantana blossom then settled gently on a low hanging twig jutting from the pine tree that casts a peaceful shadow on my home. Over the years, I’ve come to think of the hummingbirds who favor the lantana and pine by that window as personal gifts from Heaven and our Creator. As long as I can watch my hummingbird (or birds), scrubbing dishes bestows pleasure. This evening, the hummingbirds’ brand of pixie dust was joined by another scoop of tangible happiness that had found its way to my window sill – a pot full of mini daffodils placed in my hands earlier in the day by a close friend.
In the Victorian era, flowers were ascribed meanings all their own, a language, if you will. Daffodils meant “new beginnings” and “rebirth” while a bunch of daffodils spoke of “joy.” If you know me, you know I’ve been ill with one of those marathon migraines for over a month and am just now coming through the other side. So, my dear friend’s gift of these unassuming yellow flowers (my all-time favorite flower color, as you know) was quite appropriate in its symbolism as this is definitely another season of new beginnings and joy originating from His healing hands.
Tonight, I turned off the water and dried my hands but found I could not turn from the window. My hummingbird was still flitting about while the sounds of spring came through the open window, and the scent of the desert Sunday– dry, dusty, weekend smells – floated in on the breeze. I stood marveling at the tiny bird that shouldn’t be able to fly as it hovered at eye-level, and I smiled thinking of all the things in this world that “shouldn’t” exist. (I’ll spare you and not detail those things.) I contemplated how very blessed I am to have friends who love me enough to give pots of mini daffodils to me and a Father who loves me enough to send a hummingbird to flutter around my kitchen window every afternoon.
I hope your week is filled with your own version of daffodils and hummingbirds.
The Unexpected Life 