Some summers, I feel the pull of the mountain, and I cannot stay away. This year, the ocean has called to me like a siren song, one that cannot be ignored. With an extra day added to my holiday weekend, and Marc away on a business trip, I thought this would be a perfect time to take Carter to my favorite ocean beach for a night of camping, just the two of us. He accepted the invitation readily, and plans were put in place. When he reneged only hours later, citing a forgotten golf tournament, I once again swallowed my disappointment about the lack of together-time with my son, and opted to go alone…
I have been watching the building of a home and family for the past 27 days, since the Sunday I was gardening and noticed a female hummingbird showing special interest in a certain spot in a tree. I have watched her build her nest, piece by piece. Her nest grew surprisingly quickly, given that she could only carry a small bit of moss, a spot of lichen, or one fluffy bit of plant down at a time. I have been able to take pictures all along the way, including the day she laid her first egg, and two days later, the second. I visited her first thing every morning, to check the progress of her incubation, and it was the first thing I did when I got home from work each day. We spent a lot of time sitting quietly together, her sitting patiently on the nest and surveying her surroundings, while I tried to wait patiently for her to leave the nest for a moment, so I could set up or retrieve my camera without disturbing her. In the past few busy weeks, those were quite literally the only times I have been able to sit, quiet and still.
I was hoping that this weekend would be when the eggs would hatch, and I was prepared to shun all activities and people, in an attempt to film them hatching. I had gotten several good videos of her sitting on the nest, and I felt prepared. What I was not prepared for this morning was finding an empty nest…