While I was in
Atlanta, one night James saw a tiny hummingbird flying around in the shop. 
There
are two garage doors on either end of it, but he couldn't get it to fly
out. The next morning, it was sitting on the floor under a chair. He ran for
the camera, picked him up, carried him outside and put him down near a little
puddle of water. He took a drink, raised his wings, and zipped away. James
didn't catch him in flight.
Now, this is what
I call art. I'm so glad he lived through the night (and James.)
And, no snakes.
