At the edge of the cloud forest in Ecuador, a hummingbird zoomed out of the misty mountains and landed on the tip of my finger. It was about 4 inches long, with a green, iridescent back, and dark green spots on its white belly. It thrust its beak into the red plastic feeder I held in my palm. After it drank its share of sugar water, it looked at me and then zipped through the fog into the trees. I had come to Ecuador on a 10-day trip led by an ethnobotanist (someone who studies the relationships between different cultures and native plants). I had taken a workshop with her at a conference in New Hampshire, and the effusive love she offered to all beings – legged, rooted, or winged – inspired and empowered me. When I learned about this trip, I was a divorced mom who had spent 16 years raising my four kids. My passport had expired years before. My mind introduced its concerns, but my heart had already booked the flight.…