Darting about with bright colors and busy wings, you stop for a moment to consider a orchid and partake of it's nectar. Then you dart off as a wisp of air, then come back again. Here and there you go, about all things in a hurry. You stay a while until the cold north wind blows, then you fly away. So until spring returns and you come to sample flowers from my garden again, farewell Humming Bird, and be on your hurried way.