I dip my finger in the nectar to be sure it had cooled
enough to fill the hummingbirds’ suddenly empty feeder.
It had. They’re going through it quickly these days,
storing up extra energy for their upcoming migration.
I slip on my pink rain jacket, pull up the hood,
and walk, giggling, through the rain, the wet grass
tickling my bare feet. When I return to my kitchen
with the feeder, I see a bee has come along for the ride.
I catch him in a jar and take him outside.
As I carry the filled feeder up the hill to its pole, a memory
rises in my mind of Holly, her big umbrella in hand,
walking through a downpour after tending to her chickens.
I smile that we both feed birds in the rain.