Buzzing the Tower

I took the Sunday paper onto the balcony to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air when I heard what might have been the largest flying insect ever.

The air was vibrating at a bass level of very rapid downbeats.

My first reflex was to wave my arms to get rid of the pesky insect.

Just at that moment I realized I was standing next to the hummingbird feeder and undoubtedly interfering with somebody's carbo-loading.

I took the paper and crossed the balcony to another chair where I could watch the hummingbird traffic without getting my tower buzzed again.

Lightning fast and oddly calm, the hummingbirds fly like high performance race cars.  I've noticed many racing by when they seem to slam on their air brakes and swerve to a dead stop in mid-air while furiously beating their wings 70 times a second.

Yet their small body remains calm, barely moving, as it monitors the situation before flying in with perfect eye-beak coordination into the center of the "flower" on the feeder.  It backs up (the only bird able to fly backwards), and then either gets some more or moves to the next flower for another sip.

The bird will check out the other flowers on our balcony, including the tomato plant.  All this pollination has to be a reason we've enjoyed so many cherry tomatoes this season.

Sometimes a second hummingbird flies up and claims it's air space by chasing the other away.  It's likely watching an animated adventure with the two birds zipping east, west, and then east again as the pursued looks for safe sky.

This past Monday I noticed something unusual.  A hummingbird actual stopped and roosted on top of a zip tie on the balcony railing.

From inside the apartment I noticed the bird landed and looked around.  I retrieved my camera and crawled across the floor to the window and slowly got into kneeling position to take some photos.

That's the first time I clearly saw the ruby on the bird's throat. 

The wings were an iridescent emerald green that seemed to shimmer when it moved.

After it flew away, I took a position in the corner of the balcony in a chair quietly waiting and was rewarded one time for a shot from four feet away.

Throughout the afternoon the male stood guard over it's food supply as the king of it's castle courtyard.   After a little research, I learned that's what they'll do to stake their claim to groceries.

It's the bird version of putting your folk on the hand of someone reaching for a forkful of your cake.

I have no idea how often they visit our balcony, but it's easily hundreds of times a day for very small sips of sugar water (the recipe we were given years ago to remember the formula is use your five fingers, four equal portions of water and one of sugar).

The wonder of their flight, the staccato of their wings, and the little chirps as they hover are slices of nature's beauty.

If you have some visiting your house, enjoy them.

 It won't be long now until they head south for the winter, either the southern U.S., Mexico, Panama, and Yucatan Peninsula depending on where they bought their timeshare.