Call It Magic!
Some days, I want to believe in magic, because for reasons unknown an action can cause unforeseen events to unfold. Events that you want to tuck away forever, to pull out and share with others, or keep for a pleasant memory smile. The other day was such a time. I was out working in the garden area at Kingston Henery Hardware and noticed a flowering Australian Mint Bush (Prostanthera cuneata) needed to be marked with a price. The white marking pen was not in my apron pocket, so I picked up the shrub and walked inside.
I never bring a large-pot-sized shrub inside the store, so what prompted me to walk inside with my arms wrapped around its black container this time? It was flowering so beautifully that I believe I may have wanted to show it off inside. I stopped at the cashier stand and set the shrub down on the counter. Dori on the other side of the counter, and I commented about the small orchid-like flowers that covered the shrub.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a hummingbird land on the rack next to us.
“Dori look!” I said trying to get her to notice the hummingbird next to us. The little one swooped down and began feeding on the flowers in front of Dori. While the bird worked her way around to me, I could hear other people making remarks about the tiny Anna hummingbird feeding at the shrub. Me? I was trying to remain calm as the bird darted from flower to flower, inches from nose.
“She’s been trapped inside for hours,” I heard Dori say.
The bird continued desperately feeding itself. “I’m going to try to take her out the door,” I said as I picked the shrub up and slowly backed away towards the exit. Please little bird, follow me, I thought as I gingerly journeyed backwards. I didn’t believe the bird would follow, and assumed it would spook, and fly back inside. I heard people around me commenting, one even opened the door for me. At some point, I remember asking people to stay back. I knew I had said something, yet the surreality of the moment made it seem as if I was speaking outside my body. I completely focused on leading the bird to freedom. Time slowed down, adding to the illusory state of my mind.
The poor little thing was so hungry it followed the flowers, continued to feed, as I inched my way and slowly turned when we passed through the doors. Once outside the tiny bird flew to a hanging basket of red geraniums. When I sat the shrub back down where it originated from, I saw the tiny being at the rain chain fountain, where it drank, and gave itself a bath.
For whatever reason I brought a flowering shrub inside the store — the impulsive decision helped rescue a hungry, frantic bird.