Just behind my head I hear the purr of a cat or perhaps it is a small kitten in the throes of some extreme pleasure. But since I do not own any cats and since I know that cats do not fly, I turn ever so slowly in the direction in question. At an odd angle with my head, I capture this hummer as he looks for the zinnias that now have wreathes of those yellow star blossoms that convey the sugar. This pink zinnia will provide no reward.
I am a tree. I do not move except to push the camera which makes a tiny click. She suspects something, but is not sure why the tree is so strangely shaped. She lingers every so briefly, before flying to the bee balm in the bed by the sugar maple.
Since she filled my heart I feel creative and go back inside and add some magic (photoshop) to a photo of an old beaver pond I took last spring.