On Sunday, Mother’s Day, during the second hour of a four-hour gig, something extraordinary happened.

As I stood beneath a tree playing my trumpet, a hummingbird suddenly appeared. It circled around me three… maybe four times, hovering right in front of the bell of my trumpet while I played. Then it flew upward and landed on a branch directly above me, where it stayed through several songs.

My mother loved hummingbirds.

At her home, they were always around her—almost like tiny visitors that somehow knew where warmth lived. So when this little hummingbird appeared today, on Mother’s Day weekend, while music filled the air… I felt something I can’t fully explain.

I sang “Tengo Madre,” and the hummingbird remained there the entire song.

And then, as soon as the song ended, it took flight—down past me once more—and disappeared.

For a moment, everything felt still. Peaceful. Heavy and beautiful all at once.

Maybe it was coincidence.
Maybe it was memory.
Maybe it was something more.

But in that moment, standing beneath that tree with my trumpet in my hands, I missed my mother with a weight words can barely hold.

And somehow… that little hummingbird carried all of it.

My family believes hummingbirds are the souls of our departed loved ones, visiting when they know we need them most. My mother especially believed that. She loved hummingbirds, and they were always visiting her at her home.

This is the third time a hummingbird has visited me at just the right moment since my mother passed away two years ago. And each time, it has brought a small light into my darkness—exactly when I needed it most.

I am not a deeply religious man. I do believe, and I have faith. And today, that little visit felt like a gift from God. I do believe my mother came to me once again, if only for a moment, when I needed her most.

Later that night, after the day’s activities, when the house was quiet and sleep called to me, I became emotional. Tears came, and my chest ached. I closed my eyes and relived that moment—the hummingbird hovering right in front of me, looking directly at me, and again as it flew past me when it departed, chirping softly as it went.

And just like that, my heart found peace, and I drifted off to sleep. A deep, peaceful sleep.

When morning came, I woke still carrying that peace.

And I knew that in that beautiful moment, during those songs, my mother was with me—if only for a moment…

There’s more waiting at https://xinkblotz.com. Telling stories, sharing thoughts, and drinking coffee. A blend of fiction, reflection, and whatever’s brewing – one post at a time.