Flutter

All the tiny hummingbird wanted to do was rest. His tiny eyelids felt like cement sliding down his face. He had been flying for almost an hour and still had not seen anything close to red. He had seen grey roofs, yellowed grass and bare trees. But no red flowers.

His beak quivered at the thought of liquid sugar pouring down his tiny throat. He was so very thirsty, and so very tired.

He whipped over the Pond, his small wings fluttering blurs as he scanned the ground. Yellow grass, bleak trees, red flower...wait, red flower!

The hummingbird dove down to the porch and gasped with delight. A red flower! A huge red flower! He began to drink the nectar, his wings fluttering with delight. He was so intent on sipping from the red flower he didn't notice the man inside waving his arms like a fanatic.

"Look!" Ben hissed, smacking me in the ribs. We were hanging around the kitchen table, talking to my dad. "It's a hummingbird!"

"Awww!" I cooed. "Look at him go! He's thirsty!"

We watched as the hummingbird drank down the nectar, his bright blue feathers glinting in the sunlight. He looked up from the feeder and saw us staring at him.

"Oh," he said, clearly startled. "Well-er-excuse me." With a slight pink tinge to his feathers, he fluttered away.

"Do you think he'll come back?" I asked, peering out the window. "He looked embarrassed."

"Sure he will," Ben said confidently. "He knows where the food is."

The hummingbird fluttered over a few houses down, perching on a fence.

"I can't believe I pigged out like that in front of those people," he thought to himself, cringing. His wings twittered in embarrassment. His stomach growled and his head turned back to the red flower.

"Perhaps just a few more drops...."