On Hummingbirds and Betty Catherine

The lady in this picture is my grandmother, Betty Catherine Sams (and the cutie next to her is my father, circa 1946!) One of the strongest memories I have of summers with my grandparents in Tucaloosa, Alabama was her love of beautiful things, especially from the natural world.

She wasn't a stereotypical grandmother, if such a thing exists, but it was from her that I learned to appreciate waking up to the smell of coffee and bacon, napping in the "Little House" on their property (I think she was the first person to dream up the idea of a she-shed), and reading old copies of Little Women and The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew while the fan blew on my hot face in the afternoons.

Two things automatically take me back to those summers: one is Queen Anne's lace on the side of the road (I was an adult before I learned that it is actually considered a weed) and the other is the flash of a hummingbird. Whenever one would zip through the yard on its way to one of the many feeders, she would always stop what she was doing and bring it to everyone's attention. It was a special - yes, even sacred - moment of beauty. But not of the fragile, whispy sort. A hummingbird is a miracle of engineering, and one of the fiercest of all the Beloved's winged creatures. They will hover in your face and stare you down through a window if you forget to fill the feeder. Once while I was cutting back a butterfly bush a hummer divebombed me and then proceeded to chase me off the porch. No kidding.

Recently I learned that in Aztec and Mayan folklore, the hummingbird is considered a sacred reincarnation of fallen warriors, and I can see why this is. They are complicated and smart and brave, as was Betty Catherine. She faced difficulties in sometimes gracious, but often kamikaze ways. Soul of an artist, lover of beauty, emotionally fragile yet able to withstand deep challenges and heartbreak. I've been told I was her favorite.

I was sixteen when she died, and sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we had known each other as adults. But when I see a hummingbird at one of my own many feeders, I think I have a glimpse at what is also percolating in my DNA, and I stop to give thanks, just as she taught me.

If you've thought of hanging a feeder, it isn't too late! The first hummers arrive in SC in April, but they hang around all summer - best feeders are the old simple ones with yellow plastic flowers, and make sure to buy nectar free of any dyes - advice courtesy of Betty.