Nature; a long forgotten reprieve

She craned her neck to look at the beauty of the red-throated hummingbird. Its song soft, but its colors radiant. She felt like an imposter in just hues of green and brown; plain, squalid, unimpressive.
The hummingbird had traveled from far and narrated stories of lost treasures, exquisite palaces and yearning lovers. She spoke of guided cages and balconies too tempting to escape.

She sang of artists who drew her in shades of scarlet and magenta, who second-guessed their eyes with every brushstroke.
She paused her song to peck at the slightly rotten fruit and quickly snatched her beak back. The hummingbird shrugged her feathers in disdain and then, majestically flew away.
Leaving little brown bird, me, alone, with just visions of a life she'll never experience and a freedom she'll always be too nervous to pursue.