Death of a Hummingbird

Last night, I posed a question on Ask.com. By morning, I had several responses to my question. The jest was that finding a dead hummingbird on my path was symbolic of nothing more than the fact that life and death happen. However, the real question I have been pondering has to do with what hummingbirds symbolize for me on a very personal level. I did not include the fact that my stepfather, who was known for humming all the time, was associated with hummingbird. When a hummingbird comes visiting, it is like he is saying “hello” or coming to check in on us. With this in mind, you can probably see why I was a little taken back in finding this delicate bird just lying on the pavement in front of me.

What could it mean?
I could not let go of this question during this morning’s meditation. So I decided to meditate on it instead of trying to push it off. In his last months of live, my stepfather really identified with Garth Brooks’ song Live Like You are Dying. Even before he was diagnosed with Lymphoma, he lived in this way. It was just more of a conscious thing while he was fighting for his life.

I reflected on this. Life is precious and we never know when we will take our last breath. Therefore, this little hummingbird will serve as a reminder to savor the sweetness of life, appreciate all of the beauty all around, change course as rapidly and often as needed, and to utilize the all strength and resiliency than we posses to heal.

Keeping all this in mind, I detoured on my way to work. I parked my car not far from where I’d encountered my little friend and retraced my footsteps until I found him. He was right where I’d left him: just off the beaten path in the pine needles and leaves. I put him in a little box with the plan to bury him in my front yard, along with a purple flower bush that my friend, Cindy has in her yard. The hummingbirds seem to love the nectar in the little purple flowers it has and my feeder always seems to be empty (either from imaginary hummingbirds or evaporation).

A bit later in the morning, I read something about hummingbirds‘ hearts stopping in the cold of the night but coming back as the day heats back up. I went out to my car to take the lid off of the box and open the windows to my car – just in case.