My Name Is River by Wendy Dunham

Author:Wendy Dunham
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780736964623
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers, Inc.

Our seeds have sprouted, and they’re growing like crazy. And the plants we were given are covered with blossoms (me and Billy know the secret to our green thumbs is the river water—it makes the plants very happy). We’ve got a flower for almost every color you can think of: pink coral bells, purple irises, and even a bunch of white angel coneflowers. We’ve already seen so many different kinds of birds and butterflies. With the nectar, suet cakes, birdseed, and all the flowers to choose from, this place must seem like heaven for them. You can bet that if I were a bird in Birdsong, I’d definitely be hanging out here.

But of all the birds I’ve seen, I like the hummingbirds best. They zip from one flower to another in a second, and disappear right before my eyes. And if I’m close enough, I can hear the sound of their wings beating and the cute chirping sounds they make.

We sit on the log and watch the birds for a while, which helps them get comfortable with us. Then we decide to start working on the rest of our project, so I begin taking notes while Billy takes pictures. My job is to write down any bird or butterfly behaviors I see, like what flowers they seem to like best, if they eat more seeds or suet, and if they get along with each other.

Billy positions his camera and tries getting close to three chickadees eating from the feeder, but they fly away. He moves back a little, then tries getting a picture while hiding behind the daylilies. All of a sudden, he yells, “River, come here!”

I drop my notes and run to him.

“Look!” he says and points. “There’s a hummingbird stuck in that spider’s web.”

“Well, don’t just stand there! Aren’t you going to help it?”

He looks at me. “You should get to. Hummingbirds are your favorite.”

“Wow! Thanks, Billy.” I slowly move my hands toward the little bird, cup it gently, and pull it from the web. Then I position my hands between me and Billy so both of us will see. I open them. There in the palm of my hand sits a ruby-throated hummingbird. And it’s beautiful. At first it doesn’t move (Billy says that’s because it’s stunned), but then it turns its head to look at me, chirps once, and flies away.

“That was incredible, River. What did it feel like?”

“It was soft, like the silky edge on a baby blanket. And it hardly weighed a thing… It was like holding a marshmallow.”

“Rats!” Billy says while holding up his camera. “I never took a picture!”

“That’s okay,” I tell him. “Maybe that was supposed to be something just for us to see. And I know I won’t need a picture to remember.”

We walk back to the log. Billy gets ready to take pictures again. There’s a sparrow at the feeder, so he aims his camera and clicks the button. The camera spits the film out. He takes three more, and we watch them develop.

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