Five years ago my niece Andrea Bigcraft transformed my apartment terrace in downtown Portland into a magnificent garden. Besides creating beauty in every corner, she made possible the arrival of hummingbirds.
One at a time they came with iridescent wings, designing, as the poet Mary Oliver writes, “a perfect wheel.” How that wheel turns—eighty times per minute—is an eighth wonder of the world. The visiting birds hummed and sipped and my frenetic core stopped to watch.
After one little fellow settled in, life was not so sweet. He refused to welcome the hummingbirds who swooped in for a visit. That metallic four-inch bully became plump and sedentary all the way through winter. My opinion of the hummingbird changed. Not so calming after all. Music on the wing this tiny guy was not.
Hummingbirds offer a reality check for me. Every day holds a combination of harmony and dissonance. Maybe that’s one reason why Puccini’s Madame Butterfly is a favorite of mine. Years ago, I sat with a friend in a convent music room and listened to the opera. The English-Italian script in front of me, I listened as Maria Callas sang her way into my heart. “Un bel di” rang of the anxious hope that one fine day, all will be well. “Humming Chorus,” though, had a different effect on me—a final respite before the sorrow. Puccini must have known that the audience needed this—not comic relief, but heart-rest.
“Humming Chorus” is, like my terrace scene, a lull before death and regret. At times, my terrace creature was a miniature spokesperson for the world’s mercy, peace, and life. At other times, the bird was a rascal and a herald of rancor in the realm. Both dimensions are part of my human condition. That is why the space in-between, the lull, is essential.
One morning, after listening once again to the song, I saw Angel, eyes wide open, paws up, woof silenced, breathing into calm. I chuckled. She looks so peaceful, the little turkey. Maybe this is one way to inhabit the world’s garden terrace: alert, welcome mat out, weapons down, and heart-at-rest.