As I gazed at the hummingbird cradled in my hand, the traumatized bird stared apprehensively back at me. She seemed to be asking, "What are you going to do with me?" Just moments before, my mother had called me outside. It was night but in the porch light we saw the little bird flapping helplessly on the ground. I noticed that it kept using its beak to yank at a string it couldn't pull loose.
Hummingbird In My Hand
Hummingbird In My Hand
Hummingbird In My Hand
As I gazed at the hummingbird cradled in my hand, the traumatized bird stared apprehensively back at me. She seemed to be asking, "What are you going to do with me?" Just moments before, my mother had called me outside. It was night but in the porch light we saw the little bird flapping helplessly on the ground. I noticed that it kept using its beak to yank at a string it couldn't pull loose.