Kissed by a Hummingbird

It could have been any day in the garden, clipping away at the fragrant wands of the Cleveland Sage. Its long arms look almost like a giant bent skewer piercing the pointy olive green leaves and balls of purpley-blue flowers.

Then I heard the air whipped about by some small winged creature, the wings pushing the air beneath a tiny body in a relentless vibrato. I didn't look. Panic and fear rarely serve a gardener. I prayed: "Oh please Lord, Not a bumble bee. Uncle Frank got bit by one and it nearly killed him."

I slowed my motions so not to frighten whatever was hovering ever closer to its target. Which with every passing moment I felt was me.

Every few seconds, there was a pause in its forward motion. The wings would still and the creature fell a few inches like a helicopter with a stalled engine, only to sputter back into fearless flight towards me. 

I felt the soft feathered wings of a hummingbird kissing my cheek. 

The last time I was past this corner at Cal Poly, it was barren of character. Now the Cleveland Sage fills the corner like royalty on a throne. To her majesty's side, a patch of yellow flowered Santolina-probably rosmarinifolia S.virens - is strewn like the royal robe with its weave of bright green flowers leaves and knobby yellow flowers across the floor.

If you have a spot with not much more to offer a garden as a home other than bare dirt and sunshine - this pairing has potential for the start of a romantic setting.