A Morning Among the Colibri
Something urged me to rise out of bed at 0500, rather than the usual 0630-0800 I’ve enjoyed since retiring more than ten years ago. It’s like I was going to miss out on something special if I waited a minute longer. My usual leisurely routine was put on hold as I stepped out on the back porch to check out the day’s weather.
The chilly, pre-dawn air was rich with musky dewiness. Whitish-orange light reflected upon the sky from somewhere barely over the horizon, causing a pale, ground-hugging fog to slightly glow as it lay in smoky layers in the hollers and valleys behind my home. Turning to my hummingbird feeders, I saw that one had been completely drained despite bring filled late the previous afternoon. It was my largest feeder, with one-litre capacity and six stations.
I went back inside and got a gallon jug of fresh nectar from the refrigerator. They’re currently consuming about three gallons a week. As I removed the feeder’s jar and started to fill it, the air around me began to thicken with hummingbirds, at least fifteen or twenty of them. But this morning instead of re-hanging the feeder, I simply stood there holding it in my outstretched hand, as I occasionally do.
Almost immediately I was swarmed with hungry, grateful hummers, one at each feed station with others lined up awaiting their turn. As they became more accustomed to my presence and their obvious hunger emboldened them even more than usual, I gradually drew the feeder closer until it was mere inches from my face. What a wondrous sight it was!
About a dozen of these little emerald-colored marvels of evolution were all around me, the wind from their wings sweeping across my face, hair, and bare arms as they jostled each other for a turn at the nozzles. At least as many more were in a holding pattern only a few feet away, while others darted in & out among the trees. It reminded me of the five oclock rush hour at Atlanta’s Hartsfield International Airport.
Their usual territorialism had been put on hold, probably because my own presence overshadowed any threat they may have felt from each other. Unlike hummers’ usual pattern of fighting over rights to every feeder in sight, these birds were in a total feeding frenzy. Several alpha males hovered a few inches away at eye level, staring at me with fearless, tiny black eyes and flashing iridescent red and orange throats while twittering defiantly as if I were merely a larger version of themselves, the biggest alpha bird in the neighborhood.
It was truly an enjoyable experience that probably would never have occurred had I lingered in bed until full daylight. Hummingbirds are some of the most remarkable, exquisite creatures on Earth, in any kind of light. Their colors and the way they flash them changes with every new hour of the day, every week, and with every instinctive posture. To see buzzing, humming, twittering clouds of them boldly swarming around one’s head against a pre-dawn backdrop of morning fog is about as good as it gets in this life. No picture can do it justice; you just have to be there, and be the one holding the feeder.
But this spectacle also brought a touch of regret. The fact they are no longer battling over feeders means they have no more nests to build in St Clair this year, and are all preparing to head south as soon as they fatten up a bit. And, I have to wonder how many of these little jewels will survive their six hundred mile, non-stop journey over the Gulf of Mexico from Dauphin Island to Yucatan. Because of the rigors of their lifestyles, few hummers live for more than two or three years.
Everyone’s heard of swan songs; it saddens me to realize that a few of them are probably singing the hummingbird version this morning.
Views From Benny Hill is a series by Jerry Smith
Wonderful writings as usual Jerry. I am sad that they are leaving soon.
Jerry,
Only yesterday, June asked if you had said anything about the hummers. We sit on a patio each morning watching the graceful, precision flying of swarms of Hummingbirds. Yesterday morning as we watched, one Alpha male flew right up to Ms. June and looked her over as only a Hummer can. As you said, right in the eyes. He would flit from side to side, up, down and backwards as only they can. We laughed with glee as these creatures, so beautiful and graceful did their dances around our feeders.
Man I got to tell you, if anyone would have told me that I would sit in my back yard watching hummingbirds I would have told them they were crazy, well I guess I am crazy, this is one of the most fantastic shows I have ever seen.
We will be sorry to see them fly away soon, but memories will bless us until they arrive again!
Great story!
Jerry, I enjoyed so much reading this article and glad you did arise early enough to catch this glorious happening with the hummers. That’s got to be a sight to behold!!!
It is amazing that the humming birds will continue to feed that close. Wonderful pictures. This is a great story. Have you ever thought about sharing some of your stories with school children? You would be a wonderful story teller.
Thanks for the kind words, Gloria, Butch, Rosa and Betty. Those little critters are truly amazing. Winter is kinda lonely without them around.
Betty, I don’t speak well in public. My throat dries out, the voice rises in pitch, and my words tend to run together. That’s one reason I write so much.
Jerry, wonderful as usual. I noticed the other day that the hummers at my feeders seemed to be in a little more frenzy than normal and I thought they might be starting the “fill-up” for the first leg of their journey. The calendar date seems as if it’s too early for that but the weather and temperature seem about right. I guess that’s what counts. As you know, I really appreciate your writings. I would bet that you could become an effective public speaker if you just did it enough to become accustomed to the pressures. It probably would only take 5 or 6 times.
LOL…I’d be dead before then, Duke. Thanks for your comments.
I think all migrations might get underway a bit early this year, as the yellow sulfur butterflies have already been heading south for more than a month now. This has not been a hot summer at all. The real tipoff for the hummers is their mating activity, usually the last thing they do this time of year before they head out. That way, every female is fertilized before they cross the water and they are ready to lay eggs almost as soon as they arrive. Look for male birds flashing their red chests and dipping up and down like a yoyo around the females. What happens next is a bit too fast to follow, especially while your eyes are swollen half-shut from laughing.
Jerry.. hello, I would really like to touch base with you! Your father’s mother was Ella Arnold. She is the sister of my g-gm Sidera Ann Arnold. I would love to know more on Ella. Please contact me! Sharon
sharonepetrie@yahoo.com