Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Hummingbird in flight in colour
Realism · Colour · Photo
A hummingbird is shown mid-flight, with its long beak extended to the left and both wings raised. The feathers are shaded with soft gradients of dark grey and black on the wings, and green along the back and head, with a bright red patch at the throat. The bird sits against a plain background of skin, so the composition is a single centred subject with no other design elements.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The bird got into the marquee during the speeches, when everyone was looking at Dennis and nobody was watching the tent flaps. I saw it first because I was the only one counting the cutlery. It hung over the trestle near the cake, wings going so fast they blurred into a grey smudge, then it dropped its needle beak into a jug of red fuchsia and stayed there, tail up, like a man reading a menu.
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Nobody in Ledbury owned a hummingbird. Pearl Haddow swore it had escaped from the glasshouse at the botanic place over the valley, where they keep a steamy room full of things that should not be in Herefordshire in March. She said it with the authority of a woman who had once won a jam award. Meanwhile the bride, Ruth, had come round the edge of the tent with her hand pressed to her mouth, and I thought she was about to cry until I saw she was laughing.
The bird lifted, circled her head once, and settled on the single stem of fuchsia in her hand, just under her thumb. Its throat flared the same red as the petals. Ruth didn't move. Dennis, who had lost his notes, said, 'Well, that's the first thing today that's behaved,' and the whole tent laughed, and the bird went on drinking.
When the flap was tied back for the dancing, it left the way it came, low and fast over the car park, toward the glass roofs on the hill. Ruth kept the stem. She put it in a jar on the top table, and that is where I still picture it, a small green thing with its beak in the pink, going about its business while we all wished it well.
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