Hummingbird
by Rebecca L. Monroe
The hummingbird levitated, wings beating the air to hold her in place. The sun had just risen, warming her. She zoomed up to the top of a tree and landed, looking for anything bright.
A flash of pink caught her eye and she zipped down. It was a flower, open, inviting. She backed up, chirping, looking, making sure it was safe before approaching again.
The flower was huge, appealing. She moved toward it, hungry, and hit something stopping her short of the flower. She darted back, examining the flower. It was visible, no obstructions. She moved forward and once more was stopped. Frustrated, she changed her position, racing up and shifting to try different angles. She couldn’t reach it. The air was hard between her and the flower. She couldn’t penetrate it. Finally she darted to a branch to study the situation.
Another hummingbird flashed past, then back, then past; challenging her with his right to be there. He, too, wanted the flower. He too, was stopped by the barrier.
Rising, she chittered at the intruder angrily and dove at him, chasing him out of her area. Then she tried the flower once more, bumping against the invisible solidness only inches from the bloom. She tapped the barrier gently. While it was nothing she could see, there was no denying it was there. Sighing a hummingbird sigh, she went to find breakfast elsewhere.
From up in the tree he watched her leave. Not him. He would reach the flower. He flew high to get more momentum, diving hard.
She heard the thud but was busy at a new flower just around the corner of the house.
Rebecca lives in Montana in a log cabin by a river and has been writing for most of her life. She has over 100 published stories and a book of short stories, Reaching Beyond, published by Bellowing Ark Press. Along with writing, she loves to read, take long walks with Dodge, her yellow Labrador retriever, and volunteer at the local animal shelter.