I spent so much of the winter listening for the funny shout of my hummingbird neighbor, listening closely to make sure it was still alive, that I have started to hear the hummingbirds scattered all over the city. It's funny because people tend to think that my feeder is a set piece, a pretty addition to my garden. They don't hear what I hear, a city laced with tiny grouchy jewels, hovering only long enough to be noticed and then darting away somewhere else. Turns out, they're everywhere. Miniature friends who flicker past for just a moment. I find this comforting.
Tomorrow I am chaperoning a high school prom. This is especially amusing since I couldn't even be bothered to go to my own prom. But I know some of these kids--I have spoken to their class, and some of them have written me very entertaining thank you notes--and so somehow I agreed to become a chaperone. I like nature documentaries, and this promises to be essentially the same thing.