Something cool

I am totally happy for Erin right now, but I didn't get such good news this week. The promise of promotion that I've been hearing for 6 years now has been put off again. Frankly, I am getting a bit tired of it. I won't go into it, as I've spent enough time in my head mulling it over already, and I've come to the conclusion that I am probably going to have to go back to school on order to eventually do what I want to do, which is curriculum design. Actually, I look forward to it, and the idea of getting a PhD. is attractive to me for many reasons, but I am still a bit peeved at the way things are shaping up at work; You know what? I changed my mind; I WILL bore you with the details... just not now.

So the title of this particular post is "Something Cool" and I guess I should try to stay on topic, right?

The cool something that happened to day happened after a particularly long day; for reasons beyond my control I lost both my preps today, AND I had to eat lunch in my class, which meant I was with my kids non-stop from 8 to 1:45. I love the kids, but they can drive a guy crazy, so by 1:45 I was totally ready to be rid of them for a bit. They had to stay in the room for PE too, but I was finally able to leave. I went down the street to get a cup of coffee, and when I got back w/ 20 minutes to spare I couldn't go to my room because they were still having PE there (it was raining today) so I just cranked up the music in my van and laid down for a 15 minute cat-nap in the back (it's nice to have a queen-sized bed in your car!) As I lay there listening to "Cult of Personality", mulling over the career news and the day's lessons, I realized that in spite of the lack of enthusiasm from my superiors, what I am doing with my reading and writing instruction is truly excellent, and if they can't appreciate it, that's ok. Not good or fine, but OK. I started thinking about grad school, about possibly starting my own business and spreading to other schools w/ my Science Club after school program, etc. Hell, even thoughts of quitting altogether drifted in and out, though those disappeared as soon as the thought of child support came up... but anyway, the point is I came to feel relatively certain that something big and different is going to happen next school year. What I don't yet know, but something.
So I went back into class at 2:30 feeling a bit less disgruntled. I got rid of my kids, and as I was going back to my class to clean up, another teacher stopped me and asked me if I could rescue a hummingbird that had flown into her room. She has vaulted ceilings, and it was way up out of reach, so I went and snagged one of those butterfly barrels that you use to raise monarchs from one of the kindergarten teachers. I went back to the bird, who was still out of reach, so I cleared all the lookers out of the room and dimmed the lights, hoping that the bird would come down and towards the light from the open door once it thought it was alone. After a few minutes, I saw it flutter down to the counter where it could finally stop beating its wings, and I slowly and quietly slipped into the room w/ the butterfly barrel. I held it over my head and a little in front, and when I got close, the bird flew up and right into it. It was awesome! He was tired, so he perched on the side with his little claws grabbing through the netting. I've seen lots of hummingbirds in my time, and some great photos too, but never up close in person like this. I carried him in the tube outside to show the interested kids, then down to show the K teacher to whom the tube belonged, and then decided it was about time to set him free. I wasn't sure if they had really wide ranges or what, so I figured that setting him free close to the door he accidentally flew in would be best. I walked back to the door of the classroom he was trapped in, then I opened the net tube. He didn't come out. So I reached in and got him to sit in my hand. When I took him out, he just sat there on my palm for several seconds. Long enough for me to really get a good look at him. I really can't describe him well, because he was so much more delicate and small than I'd have guessed, even knowing in my head how small and delicate they are. He was sitting directly in the middle of my palm, on the soft part, yet I couldn't hardly feel his weight. He must have weighed no more than a goose feather, he was so light. His legs were maybe 3/4 of an inch long, and as thin as the fine mechanical-pencil lead my kids regularly leave on their desk rails. Each of his toes was so small I can think of nothing to compare them to. All in all he was about the same volume as a cicada, only most of that volume was feathers, so he weighed much much less. Not at all sturdy like something with an exoskeleton. As I held him, he had his wings extended out and down, not folded to his sides like most birds. His wings were sharp little v's coming out of his sides, and were short like the wings of a fighter plane. His beak was amazing too; almost as long as his body, a curved horn maybe a millimeter at it's widest point, and with a whitish tongue I had seen him stick out when he was still inside the tube holding onto the netting.
His feathers were green, except around his throat, where they were the brightest metallic purple you can imagine. I looked at him, able to take all this in, and then he cocked his head, turned his beak towards my face, and gently buzzed his wings and took off slowy, moving and sounding for all the world just like those jumping-jacks you set off on the 4th of July which sometimes take flight.
Anyway, I watched him rise and move towards the trees in the wash, where he disappeared. I realized that that might be the only opportunity I'll ever have in my life to hold and observe a wild hummingbird. And that is something cool.