Schrödinger’s Hummingbirds
Feathered electrons nipping through the air
on a sugary buzz, they click and whistle,
twittering like computer servers,
firing through airy lines of possibility.
They circle each other in tiny tornados,
impersonating bees who can only dream
of being as agile swooping into the sweet
tasting feeders, chasing each other at Mach speeds,
Sat on a telephone line, they are tiny black bulges
on the cable – momentarily frozen conversations.
In seconds they are darting dots again, pulsing
in random order, unpredictable, stopping
on tightly reigned g-forces, wings furiously
folding back layers of disbelieving air,
defying gravity in their quantum flapping,
then reeling backwards into the trees,
back into their own tiny bodies. Potentially
everywhere at once – only seeing them
makes them decide where they want to be,
which laws of nature to obey. Or not.
Matthew Friday is a writer, professional storyteller and primary school teacher. By all means check out the results at: www.matthewfriday.com