California moment

There are few things I like better than having a Saturday to myself. Today was mostly occupied with domesticity -- laundry, cleaning, grocery shopping, finally hanging the pictures that have been leaning against various walls since I moved into this apartment. I've had TCM on TV for company since the early evening: Swing Time followed by the La Jersild Honorary Showing of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Dr. Zhivago, which I've never seen, will start shortly.

But in the middle of all that, I happened to look out through the sliding glass doors that connect my living room with my balcony. The balcony stands empty except for a still-sealed packing box of flowerpots, and a single basil plant. I bought it at the farmer's market a few weeks ago, figuring that would be more economical than buying bunches of basil that I never use all the way up before they go bad.

This afternoon, though, at the moment I glanced out, my single basil plant was not alone. It was entertaining a hummingbird about the size of my palm. The bird hovered around the plant, sipping delicately from the tiny sprig of white flowers that has bloomed at the top. It took several seconds to get all the nectar, so I got a very good look at the curve of its body and the blur of its wings. As you can imagine, I didn't mind at all sharing my plant with such a beautiful visitor.