Pixel Dance

I’m always fascinated with the artist’s mind. Do they care if anyone sees the creation? Do they realize it’s art while they are creating it? What part of it is actually the art? If you happen to visit me in late July, I will usually be in my back yard. And I’m there with about five hummingbirds. I’ve planned the kind of garden that hopefully feels like Eden to these wandering dancers, and hopefully some butterflies, bees, and a bluebird, if I’m so lucky. I love to lure them into my canvas – where I can stalk them for a photo, or stand still and let them flit around me. They themselves are like an artist’s brush, or a conductor’s wand, painting a melody over the terrain of flowers, selecting each one as if it’s the perfect note, or just the right color. And I wonder if they know how majestic they are. I wonder if they make the art, they are the art, or if in my imagination, I am in fact the artist, conjuring up story and dance to follow their lead. In any case, I’m glad they’ve decided to allow me the privilege of witnessing their artistry.

For the gardeners in my midst – and many of you know of my obsession – the “Firecracker Penstemon” is pure bliss on the Hummingbird’s tongue. The plant spreads wildly if you let the seeds die and drop. And it grows faithfully – although not always returning to the same spot for long. It’s great for my Zone 5, dry, windy climate, and I highly recommend it. And who doesn’t want to tell everyone they have a “Firecracker’ in their yard.