Just beyond two large glass panes forming heavy sliding doors, a secret garden lay.  Although it had not had the attention it was accustomed to, the circumstances of life’s curve balls, its beauty was nevertheless evident.  Fragrant lemon trees bore proudly fruit in varied arrays of greens and yellows; geraniums were making a flashy comeback sporting dense pink petals; and birds of paradise with their startling angular architecture, towered above surrounding less vertical blooms. A small pool, beautifully landscaped with surrounding natural rock and flora, had become the residence of choice for several waterfowl that found it particularly appealing. They caused quite a ruckus with their take offs and landings.  With my beautiful grandbaby wrapped in my arms, I would step quietly past the open doors and carefully present to her the bounties of Mother Nature.

We reviewed the colors of the rainbow as presented to us in such magnificent fashion, in both English and French.  We introduced ourselves to the curious ducks and the not so curious scurrying lizards.  The dragonflies, spiders, and ants were all investigated, and this beautiful community of living things became a joint respite where we both found joy and peace.

It was an extreme delight for me when familiar high-pitched chatter and buzzing of wings tickled my ear drums, and the hummingbird I felt first in my soul before she was seen with the eyes, zipped through the sky. Larger than what we have in Texas, she would watch us with curiosity, and we returned the sentiment.

Imagine our extreme joy when she built her tiny home just outside those sliding glass doors. Resting in the arms of the Oleander, a glorious, cup-shaped treasure was affixed between two branches. Small twigs poked out, revealing her carefully thought-out infrastructure. Silky, delicate threads she had borrowed from spiders wound through lichen and moss.  How clever you must be, I thought.

She began spending endless hours affixed to her home, and we knew what was happening. We would chitter and chatter in hushed tones, and often the first words of exchange on any morning were about “our” bird.  She would eye us carefully when we made our way into the garden, sometimes flying quickly off the nest but never very far.  She would sit atop a neighboring tree or on a wire, her steady gaze never veering from her target.  I believe (anthropomorphizing?) there was a mutual respect and trust building. She watched as I rocked, soothed, and held a sometimes sleeping, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing baby. I watched as winds blew wickedly, swaying her home. The amazing thing was watching it happen right before our eyes.

She ultimately hatched two fine chicks, her journey becoming infinitely harder, in my estimation. Female hummingbirds, from what I’ve gleaned, do it all pretty much on their own, without the help of a partner. (except for that very first step).

Many of you know I am very fond of hummingbirds.  They decorate our door at the office and adorn our scrubs and white coats. There is, of course, a story behind that I will save for another day. On this day what I am remembering and thankful for, is how I DO NOT have to do everything on my own.

Ten years ago, I did take that solo flight from a large practice, flying a little slower initially because of legal restrictions, but soaring with the help of great staff within a very short time. As I was able to add more great people, our practice grew. Now we have additional board-certified dermatologists, a nurse practitioner, and a team of aestheticians carefully watching over our patients.  For those of you that are wondering, my health has been great, and I’m taking full advantage of that to travel and spend time with my family, as well as providing supervisory duties in the clinic.  AND…

I am expanding my free-lance writing efforts (look for my articles in Tyler Today in the health section), painting, and will soon have a website up with additional offerings.

Stay Cool and will check in with you soon!

Lisa Lowry