Wings of Hope

Loren rolled out to the patio every morning at first light, to sit at the table enjoying freshly ground and brewed coffee, his Pall Mall non-filtered cigarets, and the feeling of becoming immersed as if meditating upon stilled splendor of mornings' awakenings.


Birdsongs from his trees and those in neighboring yards heralded each sunrise, and the ash tree in the corner of Loren's yard seemed especially attractive to hummingbirds.


He purchased and assembled a hummingbird feeder kit, and researched the most attractive food to bring the birds to his feeder, a fruitful concoction in which Loren took pride as he emptied the blender into the fount.


With the aid of a broomstick, the feeder was successfully suspended on the lowest branch of the mature ash.


Loren waited and watched, and must have dozed off when his eyes blinked open to the buzzing sound of a hovering hummingbird less than a foot from his nose, and he remained perfectly still to appreciate the resplendent colors of the male before him, eye-to-eye as if in gratitude for a bird family's sustenance.


The surreal experience ended with the bird's pivoting departure, and Loren quickly swung his wheelchair around toward the ramp leading into the house, and he, once-and-for-all, freed all hope of ever walking and smiled contentedly at the notion of wanting to fly.