One of the greatest joys of summer is opening the window early in the morning and watching the hummingbirds zigzag across the backyard. This morning I opened the blinds to nothing but half-empty feeders swaying in the wind. I know it’s all part of the cycle. That life must move on without them. That in a few weeks something else will occupy my attention, and I’ll forget about them. But for now, my heart feels the sorrow, and I miss them. Or am I just saddened that I, too, am nearing the migration from this life to the next? I can’t help but wonder how long it will take for those I leave behind to find something else to occupy their attention as the cycle of life moves on without me.

for better or worse
death is but man's migration—
into the unknown