a pick-me-up

I’ve been treading water, mood-wise, since some “bad” news this morning.  Been trying to remind myself of the good that comes from so-called bad, and vice versa, and how I am so liable to misjudge at first sight when something new comes into my life.  By early afternoon, my rational mind was accepting the no-judgment formula, but my emotions kept pulling the whole thing under the surface.  (I guess some of you might know what I mean?)

Meredith, I said, you just need a little pick-me-up, something bright and cheery and with no obvious negative emotional overtones.  (Yes, I do talk to myself this way, thus confirming Einstein’s hunch about the self being merely an optical illusion of consciousness.)

The garden, as usual, went above and beyond.  I wasn’t able to catch it on film (didn’t want to move or even breathe), but a hummingbird came by right after this shot, hovering feet from me, and seemed to stare deeply into my eyes between leisurely sips.  Cardinal climber nectar was probably a pick-me-up for him.

Either that or a really early happy hour cocktail.  He didn’t seem to mind my presence at all; maybe he was a little tipsy.

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