As we go to press my hummingbird feeders are loaded with Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds. I have two feeders, like the one on the front cover. Each feeder holds about four cups of food.

     The little hummers are eating me out of house and home—as they do every year at this time. I make about 12 cups of “food” in a batch—That is 12 cups of water, brought to a simmer, and four generous cups of sugar stirred until clear.

     After it cools, I rinse the feeders in hot water, and refill, storing remaining food in the refrigerator. They are going through about half gallon a day!

     But it won’t last. Soon they will leave. The first scouts arrive when my red azalea blooms in the spring. If I don’t get food out the scouts keep on visiting. This year I was little late getting the feeders up, and at least a dozen hummers hovered, until I felt really guilty. They are the only birds which can fly backward and they are very territorial.

     My desk faces a picture window where I have hung the feeders from the gutters on the house. I use two “S” hooks, and they are at “eye” height. I usually have the side windows open and those tiny birds make all kinds of fuss while they feed!

     I don’t pretend that I’ve studied them carefully. I know the males have the ruby red throats. Their backs are a shimmering emerald green, like a gown I once wore to a college dance. Their little tails fan out and have a white stripe along the curve.

     Butterfly bushes are behind my feeders and those who must wait their turn often sit quietly on the branches until they can feed. I admit I can’t tell the babies from the mommas, because they’re all so small.
Nor have I located their tiny nests. My eyes have followed their flights into the nearby dogwood tree, but I cannot see a nest. I have also watched them fly up into the oak trees in the woods. Even in the winter, when the leaves are gone, I can’t find those nests.

     When I first moved here I found a tiny nest on the ground near my driveway. I’m certain it once belonged to a hummer.

     I must get ready to add more sugar to the mixture, as the hummers will require more nourishment before flying south. The scouts hang out until everyone else has left.

     Then one day I look up, and there are no more hummers until the azaleas bloom next spring. 

© 2001 Janet Abbott Fast All Rights Reserved