I've been thinking about hummingbirds a lot recently. A neighbor from our old apartment complex just told us that there is a pair nesting among the bougainvillea, just as they did last year when my husband and I helped our neighbor try to rescue a baby hummingbird that had been abandoned.
We really weren't sure if we were doing the right thing by intervening, but we thought since he would most certainly die without food, we should at least try to give him a chance. Sadly, after nearly two days of feeding him, we were devastated to find that he had passed.
Tonight I also came across this post from Kristin St.Clair, my favorite crafter over at Martha Stewart'scraft department, who just went through a similar experience. It reminded me again of what a miracle it was to have been so close to this tiny, fragile creature, and to see his beautiful iridescent feathers up close.
We buried him in the garden at the old place, in a shady corner under an Angel's Trumpet tree, using a flat stone for a marker. I still look over to that corner whenever we go visit, and I still think of him now and again, and about his valiant struggle for life. It was unbearably sad to lose him, but I could never regret the brief, intensely sweet experience of knowing him.