Touching A Dream


It happened unexpectedly, like a gentle whisper from somewhere behind her and when she turned around, there was no one to be seen. And if there had indeed been a whisper, was it her voice or someone else's?

It was still something that was unattainable - unreachable - even if it appeared to be real for a while. And it was real because it happened. Emotions are a funny thing. Funny "ha-ha" would have been nice for then it would have been easier. But it was not easy, was it, and it was not really funny either.

She remembered the hummingbirds and how she could recognise that they were nearby or were zooming by close to her. The sound of the rapid beating of their wings was a dead giveaway. They just seemed to dash from here to there, if birds could "dash" at all, able to manouveur around any obstacles that they suddenly came upon. And their sudden apearance and disappearance made her wonder one time if perhaps a very long time ago, little children had thought that they were the fairies they had longed to see. After all, they were tiny and dainty flying creatures, their wings beating rapidly.

There was one afternoon when she was about to hang the hummingbird feeder in its usual place. A bee was buzzing around, bothering her. She knew she should merely ignore it but she couldn't. She never could. The fear of being stung was stronger than actually being stung, she realised that, but still she fidgeted as she told the bee to leave her alone. The disturbance was too much. She gave up.

Then it was quiet again. She turned around and resumed hanging the feeder. Without warning, a loud fluttering noise from behind the tree zoomed in close to her head. Alarmed, she swore out loud as she backed away then laughed when she realised that her hummingbird friend had suddenly come upon her, surprising the both of them. It probably thought that she had put the feeder in its usual place and was ready to be used.

Had it been waiting all this time? Had it even been watching her?

She had seen them travelling in pairs, or one at a time, flying from the tree to the feeder, hovering briefly to drink the sweet nectar, then flying off again. And she was startled once or twice when one of them actually came up right in front of her, hovering in the air, looking at her. Why the curiosity, she wondered. And then, as quickly and unexpectedly as it had appeared, it was off again.

It was so close, almost like touching a dream. And she wondered if anybody had ever touched a hummingbird before, or even captured one. It would be a pity if they did, she thought. It was true that one was easily startled by these tiny winged creatures. But they also seemed friendly and harmless.

And she remembered the gentle whisper. And how she had felt. It was all so unexpected which meant that it had made an even deeper impression upon her.

The dream vanished. Was she such an emotional creature that she couldn't distinguish what was real from what wasn't real? Yes, she was emotional, perhaps too emotional for her own good, but she also knew fact from fiction, and truth from a lie. She knew all that. She told herself that she did.

She remembered what it was like to be startled by a hummingbird. That was her experience. It was wonderfully strange, or strangely wonderful. It was also real. And yet, was it really? And she realised things that she had never realised nor wondered before. Or had never wondered in a very long time.

But then the hummingbird vanished. And she wondered if she would ever encounter it again.

Dreams fade. Truths surface. But even He knows that she will wonders. And she knows that dreams aren't hummingbirds for, at least, those tiny, winged creatures with their rapidly-beating wings, are real. Very real, but also very elusive.

 

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