No, the reason I frequently replenish the feeder springs
from a selfish motive: I find the hummingbirds an unending source of joy. Never a dull
moment when they are around.
In this time of house arrest forced by the coronavirus, I
find more time than usual to observe Anna’s hummingbirds. These birds are a
common sight in the Bay Area, particularly during Spring and Summer.
And what I find during the hours of the day surprises me.
Pleasantly, I must add. These little bundles of energy are fierce, feisty, and
territorial, ready to go to war at a moment’s notice when others intrude into
what they think belongs rightfully to them. Opinionated, unpredictable birds
are clearly more fun to watch than the meek and predictable kind.
There
is this one male Anna that seems to dominate the brood. I see its iridescent
pink throat patch (a “gorget” for purists) as it looks up and around stretching
its neck.
It sits on a perch next to the feeder and looks for intruders tempted to alight
on the feeder for a quick sip. There is no mistaking its intention, in the way this neighborhood bully surveys its domain with a glare: “Thou Shalt Not Drink From My Well!” It
makes high-frequency chirps – chik, chik, chik - designed to strike terror into
the hearts of other Annas. The perch is a loop I wove from wires stringing together
decorative holiday lights from the past.
So this is what I see as the sun climbs the sky and then
slowly, languorously, begins to descend in the lingering summer days.
The aggressive (but with a benign side as well, as I was to find out later) Anna surveys its surrounding from its perch.
Suddenly it takes off in a blur and attacks two Annas hovering near the
feeder. Its “do or die” aggression is too much and the two beat a hasty
retreat.
Just as suddenly and inexplicably, there is peace and
three, sometimes even four, hummingbirds sip nectar from their slots, their long
sword-like bills deep inside the feeder.
Within seconds the truce is broken, and a war erupts, with astounding
acrobatics and aerial assaults and piercing sounds livening the show.
And so it continues throughout the day, friendship and
enmity alternating between Anna’s hummingbirds for reasons hidden from me, and
I suspect, from bona fide ornithologists as well.
Why do birds do what they do? It is a profound question to ask, even though the answer will always
remain elusive. It is perhaps wiser to observe birds for the sheer pleasure of them, to listen to them, whether singing their hearts out or warning interlopers with
high-frequency threats.
In time, some patterns will emerge – some avian variation
of Fibonacci Numbers, perhaps - and we will experience a thrilling sense of
discovery.
I can see a pattern emerging for the Anna’s hummingbirds that I am lucky
to observe, although I cannot articulate it yet.
No matter. Birds make the earth more hospitable and life
more livable. That’s a gift that’s a source of gratitude and grace.
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