When we lived in Continental Divide, New Mexico, one of the many glories of the area where we lived at the foot of the Zuni Mountains were the great hummingbirds that were in the area from spring to fall. Sometimes in the pinion trees outside our house, hundreds of hummingbirds gathered and then dive bombed, perched, and hovered around the red feeders that Ethel filled multiple times a day. Gold, green, brown, and red flashed in the special New Mexico light as a celebration of life and living darted here and there all over our yard and into the field where horses were grazing out the back window. Sometimes Ethel would go out to water the wildflower garden she kept going until winter set in through the hottest of summer days. The hummingbirds didn’t seem to have any fear of her, but buzzed within inches of her head as they dipped in and out of the spraying water. The high desert is so dry so much of the year, and you would think that life had to have an almost impossible time surviving. Yet, the hummingbirds, beautiful and raucous, were only part of what was present in this unbelievably beautiful place with its small mountains and soaring red cliffs. Birds, elk, mountain lions, mule deer, antelope, jack rabbits, and a host of other life survived among the pinion and juniper forests that spread out over the land. Sometimes we’d even have a stellar jay landing beneath our apple trees, its dramatic crown and blue fire startling as it strutted in the small shade. This was hummingbird heaven–a place where we could sit in our living room as a fiery sunrise blazed on the eastern horizon and watched dawn glint off hummingbird wings.
fourwindowspress 