As I sit here, even though there’s not a breath of air in the trees, the leaves of the mountain laurel outside my office window are fluttering away. It’s not a teensy, tiny microburst, but rather the hummingbird who has become my new BFF.
I have a couple of gladiolas out there that I completely forget about every year until I look out and say, “Hey! I’ve got gladiolas!” Sadly, this is about par with my not-finger-on-the-pulse-of-my-garden horticultural skills.
Then again, this perennial event has the same upbeat outcome of my aging brain losing track of other things; every day (or garden) is a new and happy surprise.
While the gladiolas’ blooms lasted, I could enjoy several days of hummingbird visits, but once things were finished, so were my air shows.
This year I had an epiphany, and remembered a feeder that had been tucked away in the recesses of the garage, a victim of forgetfulness + inertia.
As Ranger Google instructed, I boiled up some water and sugar, let it cool, and filled the feeder’s reservoir. It only took about a day, and now I’m the hummingbird headquarters of happiness. They're hooked. I have at least two that visit, sometimes several times an hour.
My mother used to say that if she came back as an animal, she wanted to be an otter, because they always look like they’re having fun.
It occurred to me the other day that if I came back as a hummingbird, I could finally realize my childhood dream of living on nothing but sugar.
So there, food pyramids and balanced diets!
Aren't hummers just the best! I've had one literally in my face because the feeder needed replenished. I must remember to tell my youngest granddaughter about coming back as a hummingbird and living on nothing but sugar. She would be first in the hummingbird line.ReplyDelete
In this post you really led us into a fine conclusion. By the way , you're only as old as you feel.ReplyDelete
I want to come back as a cat, doing exactly what I want and expecting everyone to cater to me.ReplyDelete
Ooooh. Hummingbirds are amazing - even seen only in photographs and on screen. To have one visit would be bliss.ReplyDelete
Just the same I am with Mac n' Janet. I want to come back as a suitably indulged housecat. Preferably one of my own, which could be challenging...
Yes, we had the same plan as you, except we could never work out the logistics.Delete
That is one lovely visitor.ReplyDelete
Why is your desk not in front of that lovely window? Do you get too much sun through that?
Actually my computer desk sits right between two windows, so I can look out without being fried by the sun.Delete
I love your wish to come back as a hummingbird. I want to be one of those tall and wide shady trees that live for hundreds of years. And I want to be near a river or lake, but preference goes to river.ReplyDelete
We have some around here, too. Once when I left the house, one flew right up in my face and said hello, then left. I love hummers. :-)ReplyDelete
i've always declined a hummingbird feeder. surely granulated white sugar does not have all the nutrients a hummingbird would need compared to nectar. I do have hummers visit the yard but there's not much blooming now. I may have to break down and get one.ReplyDelete
I am feeding an army of those cuties. Careful what you wish for. I am up to 2 quarts of nectar a day. I buy so much sugar that I think I am being watched by the ATF as an illegal still operator.ReplyDelete
Well, as long as you're at it. .. . .Delete
Nice pictures of the hummingbird. I saw two yesterday. They are cool birds.ReplyDelete
Wow a sugar diet. Those hummingbirds are cute. Glad you got the feeder out of storage.ReplyDelete
Once you feed them, they will rely on you so keep it coming!ReplyDelete
We have a feeder just outside the kitchen window. There are more yellow jackets than hummingbirds hanging around this time of the year. Oh Marty, your book arrived in the mail yesterday! I finished reading the sweet little book, "The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly" this afternoon. Can't wait to start on yours.ReplyDelete
Thanks so very much! That's so kind of you.Delete