Longing

What do you long for?

I’ve been waiting five whole months for something that lights me up like nothing else. Five long months of enduring days getting shorter and nights growing longer. Dealing with less and less sunshine each day. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Holding on to the memory of seeing that first glint in the sunshine. That first “OH WOW!” of the year. The wonder of that tiny creature who has come so far to visit my garden and inspire my work — the Ruby Throated Hummingbird.

I plan most of my garden around hummingbirds. Zinnias, buddleia, salvias, petunias, hibiscus, cosmos, echinacea — I even let the basil flower now that I know the wee sparklers love them.

This year I’m trying hollyhocks for the first time. Hot pink, of course. 🤩 Last summer I sowed seeds and carefully tended the plants over the winter. It doesn’t get terribly cold here in my part of the South Carolina Lowcountry, but a few nights of 19F took its toll on a few things. I was relieved when the hollyhocks came through.

So there I was last week, minding my own business on the patio when I heard something. Not a bumblebee. Not a dragonfly. Something . . . different. Familiar, but something I hadn’t heard in a long while.

That’s when I saw it. That flash of brilliant color that’s unlike anything else. So fast that you wonder if you’ve seen it. And then you see it again and think, no, it can’t be that. Is it? Is it really? YES, it is! It’s the first hummingbird of the season. ✨✨✨

I’m always ALWAYS left speechless when I see that first one — and left breathless. I mean, I truly stop breathing. I forget to breathe a lot when I’m overwhelmed with super fabulous things of beauty. And when I do remember to breathe, I want to sing out, “LOOK!!! OH MY GOSH LOOK!!!! IT’S A HUMMINGBIIIIIIRRRRD!!!” Instead, I’m usually making incoherent sounds and am maybe able to point. I’m usually alone or with my cat so it doesn’t even matter if I can speak or not, but there you go. 😂

When I regain my words, I say, “Hello, friend! Welcome back! I’ve missed you so.” 💕

I mean, they light me up for real. I love how the sunlight catches their feathers throwing sparks of red and green as they zip and zoom their way to and from the feeders. I’m awed by their fortitude — they can cover around 1,200 miles during migration, 500 of those in one go as they cross the Gulf of Mexico. And never underestimate how fierce they can be in defending their territory.

For something so tiny — they only weigh a bit over a tenth of an ounce — they have a mighty big effect on me and my work. They fill me with hope through the bleakness of winter, joy in the spring, and inspiration all year.

So tell me, what do you look forward to each year? What do you long for? I’d love to know. Please hit reply and share with me what lights you up.

💞

Zuzu

P.S. I’ve been knocked out by the texture of the hollyhock petals. They are sort of like crepe and are super soft. I’m trying to figure out how to translate that to fabric, fibers, and beads. Stay tuned!

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