Sometimes the best way to experience the world isn’t to go searching for it, but to sit still and let it come to you.
Lately, the view from my reading chair has become a vibrant little stage. Our backyard feeder has drawn a steady parade of wildlife—bold flashes of blue from the Western Scrub Jays, brilliant bursts of color from the Hooded Orioles, and Purple Finches—transforming quiet afternoons into a chorus of motion and song.
But the most captivating performance unfolds just inches beyond my window. For the past couple of weeks, a young hummingbird mother has been perched on her tiny, beautifully woven nest. Hummingbirds usually seem made of pure nervous energy, yet here she is: perfectly still, patient, and devoted. Watching her quiet vigil - day after day - has felt almost magical.
Life seems to be blooming in every direction right now, renewing itself in real time. It’s a gentle reminder to slow down, look outside, and notice the quiet miracles surrounding us.
John Muir once wrote, “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.” These days, as I recover from my bicycle accident, my "walks" mostly happen right here from this reading chair—but somehow, the reward feels exactly the same.
If you pause by a window for a minute or two,
Wild things might wander right over to you.
They’ll flutter and whirl in a quicksilver swing,
And hum little songs on invisible wings.
And soon you may find, just by watching it grow,
Nature puts on quite a remarkable show!
This is On the Fly. I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, ask questions, see you soon.

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