Just after the porch woke up, the fuchsias held their bells very still, as if a classroom had opened inside each pink lantern. The hummingbirds arrived in a neat little queue, wings whispering, and took turns saying good morning to a blossom before they even thought of breakfast.
We asked at the kiosk by the gate. "I heard they nod to the watering can first," said a gardener buying stamps. "The can is shy, so the nod matters." A note in the porch book, written very small, added: one sip only, please; the next guest is already practicing.
By evening the same birds came back for a second lesson, hovering a moment longer, then leaving the bells rocking as if they had been thanked. A day later the watering can stood a little closer to the pot, ready for another round of polite pauses.