Ken Clifton, "Anna's Hummingbird on nest," 2008
Spiderwebs, gathered in a skein then drawn out by the needle of beak. One tap, and a push: she sticks another bit of moss in place, patchworked with lichen, a hidden nursery where she’ll warm her warrior children until they hatch into endless appetite. Her body burns off a scrim of frost. She nests, shivering, held by her private compulsions, the small goddess waiting for her twins to arrive.