Look Past your Thoughts and you May Drink the Pure Nectar of this Moment – Rumi

I am not a wildlife photographer, but life is all I photograph.

Two mornings ago I sat in my usual spot on the balcony just before sunset, to have my coffee. My dog already had his morning walk and was sleeping under my chair. I had added new nectar water to the humming bird feeder and waited for them to have their breakfast before me.

Soon, I could hear the high rolling pitch of wings and the first humming bird came to drink. It is part of my morning ceremony to watch them enjoy the sugary water and fly back and forth. This morning there were two of them competing for that nectar. Their fast flight and challenging each other for the best water hole was most enjoyable to watch.

I had not taken pictures of them before. After all, they are birds and I have not looked for a story behind their drinking from the feeder. But, given the farandole of aerial dancing these two did, decided to test how my 1970s Nikkor–H 180mm would do in low light and fast moving subjects. I opened the lens to its fullest at 2.8.

After a few clicks, I saw a large bee in my viewfinder. It was flying around the feeder. I knew that the watering hole was too narrow for a bee to get in – it is made for the long and slim beak of the hummingbird. Yet, the bee smelled the sugary nectar and was eager to get its share.

Then something amazing happened. The bee sat on the tail of the hummingbird and waited for it to drink. When the hummingbird flew away, the bee went to the water hole. The process was repeated numerous times. I could not see the bee on the feeder, but guessed that there were some droplets of the nectar that smeared the edge of the hole when the hummingbird retracted its beak from it.

And the bee got its share.

This symbiotic cooperation was unknown to me, but this is a world where I do not venture a lot. It was my 180mm lens that got me closer to see and celebrate.

Unknowingly, I had gone past my thoughts and this observation was my own nectar of discovery.

… I put my camera down, rubbed my dog behind the ears, and watched the first rays of the sun paint the mountain top in orange and gold.

July 19, 2017

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2017