Its spring, about an hour after first light, on the trail for half of that, a shimmering wall of rock suddenly appears behind a screen of tall buckbrush. Moving closer, it is revealed to be water from an artesian well just above, washing the rock with a thin gentle stream. And in the space between rock and brush a dozen or more humming birds of a literal rainbow of colors appears. They cling to the rock face and proceed to take a morning bath. Moving still closer, to within four or five feet of the rock, the tiny creatures ignore all else and continue to bathe and then to alight on the brush to preen and shake themselves. And I was there with you for those precious minutes.
Posted on: Tue, 25 Mar 2014 01:13:23 +0000
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