As we were walking back to the house after mowing the grass yesterday afternoon, something buzzed haphazardly by my head. Turns out it was Harry, the baby hummingbird.

I’m not sure what it is with us and hummingbirds this summer. After watching Harry sputter and land in the hot sun on the ground in the corral, I went over to make sure he was alright. I think Harry was tuckered out from what must have been his maiden flight, because he stepped right onto my finger without a moment’s hesitation.

I handed Harry over to Don and ran into the house to get the camera, and Don took Harry to the feeder. Harry was happy.

We then took Harry into the shade of one of our cottonwood trees. Look at his teeny, tiny feet.

Harry sat cooling off on Don’s palm for quite a while. We stood there quietly with him.

Okay, Harry, it’s time for you to go back to being a hummingbird now.

Don gently moved Harry to one of our crape myrtles. Harry sat there for a few moments, then flew away.

May you live as long as you want and never want as long as you live, Harry.

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