Jack was out working in the field a couple of years ago when this object came fluttering towards his face. Catching him off guard and not knowing what was coming his way, he instinctively blocked his face with his hands. Half a second later, this thing fluttered back around and landed right on his index finger. Jack looked at IT - IT looked at him and said, “chirrup”.
I was in the barn talking to Paige on the phone. Okay ya’ll, not much can pry me from the phone. Especially when it’s Paige on the phone, but when Jack walked into the barn with a bird on his finger, I got off the phone. Click.
Jack sat the bird down on the desk and she started pecking at the newspaper. She was looking for food. I had some wild birdseed at the house, so we headed back to the house, our new little friend in tow on Jack’s finger, to get her some food.
Okay y’all, you have to envision this. Our barn is not that close to the house. Probably about 250 to 300 yards. We’re walking with this bird on Jack’s finger and she just sits there. She sits on his finger the entire walk just looking around like she’s checking the place out. She never even attempts to fly – she never even flapped her wings. She just sat there.
We get her in the house, I put some birdseed in a little bowl and she starts eating like there’s no tomorrow. So much for “eating like a bird”. After literally inhaling her food for about 30 or 45 seconds, she then looked up at us and started chirping a mile a minute. She had something to say and she wanted to be heard. I’m sure she wanted us to know what she had just endured. It probably was something like this:
“I just can’t tell you how exhausted I am and what this little journey entailed. I had to dodge big birds, cats, high winds, and the elements to get here. Put me to bed NOW. I’m tired and in no mood to chat. Where’s my new cage? It better be nice and roomy. I’m also noticing you have some cats around here. Be sure you get me in a safe place, but DON’T shut the door on my cage, I can’t stand that.”
Right then and there I told Jack that her name is Lupe. I don’t know why, that’s just what popped in my head. And right then and there, Lupe copped her little attitude and it hasn’t changed in 2 years. She rules our world. This is her house, we’re just visiting.
She tells us what’s on her mind all the time. And the DOOR. DON’T CLOSE THE DOOR on her cage. She’s fine staying in her a cage, she spends most of her time inside her cage or on top of it, but DON’T close the door. She WILL let you know how she feels about a closed door. Trust me. Lupe’s door stays open.
Okay y’all. Now the strange stuff about me is going to come out. You may choose to never read another post of mine the rest of your life when I say this. You may think I’m just too weird and need some professional help, but – okay, I’m going to say it.
I think Lupe is my great grandmother. If she’s not my Granny, she was sent here by Granny. There’s a definite Granny connection. Again, don’t ask me how I know. I just know.
When I was a little girl my Granny would always tell me things that I found so amazing. Of course, when your 5 and 6 years old, many things told to you seem amazing, but Granny had some REALLY amazing stories.
She would tell me things like, “I heard you got a new little dress yesterday with yellow daisies on it.” Since I was such a bright, almost genius-like child, I would always ask her how she knew. Her response was always, “A little bird told me.”
In the summers at her house, on a daily basis she would tell me little factoids about myself – I was always amazed at her knowledge, and she would always tell me that she knew these things because a little bird told her. So of course, I would spend the rest of the day in the yard looking around everywhere for this little magical bird that could talk. I wore myself out looking for this bird.
At night when it was dark and I could no longer search for the bird outside, I would ask Granny more questions about her bird. She would describe the bird in great detail and all the little things this bird would tell her. She told me that this bird would come to her bedroom window every morning to tell her things about me. She said that this bird was always watching me, and that this was how she kept up with me.
I wanted to find this bird more than I wanted to ride in Santa’s sleigh.
Lupe IS this little bird y'all. She even looks just like the bird Granny always described. I would beg Granny to catch the bird and put her in a cage in the house so I could see her; but, Granny would tell me that this little bird was a special bird, far too special to be locked in a cage.
Okay, call me half cracked, that’s okay. It could be true. But, I’m just here to tell you that wonderful things happen at Hummingbird Farms, including birds landing on your finger. Jack always says, “It’s magic out here”. It is. And I still have other magical stories to tell you…