If you’ve ever watched a hummingbird, you know they flutter their wings so fast they appear as if from out of nowhere, dance around briefly, then disappear all together. Playful looking creatures, like fairies joyfully bouncing around the forest as they please.
On a Saturday in late January I felt like a hummingbird. I ran down a mountain trail in Shanendoah, going so fast I was nearly flying. I experienced an intensity of freedom as I felt the rush of winter air on my face and saw the trees and sky as blurs of blue and brown in my periphery. My body was light and my mind was in the trance of the moment. Two thirds of the way down the mountain I slipped on a rock and crashed down. Dirt and leaves in my hair, I lay crying in pain for several minutes. A downed hummingbird who injured her wing.
On several occasions I was greeted by kind hikers who stopped to check on me. After some time, my friend helped me to my feet and walked me hand in hand down to the base of the mountain. I felt the physical discomfort of sprained tendons behind my kneecap and a wound which would receive stitches. More than the pain though, was a depth of warmth from the care I was given. From the soft glances of the hikers to the treatment that would later be given by a gentle doctor, and most of all the love from my friend. I was wrapped and penetrated with warmth.
Ten days later, I’m nearly completely healed. My experience was a beautiful reminder that we can only fly to the boundless places of playfulness and joy because we are tethered to the love of others. We can dance through the cold air like wild hummingbirds because of the humans who catch us when we fall.
