hummolitshort3

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN AMERICAN HUMMINGBIRD

Short Stories Page 3

MY LONG AND WINDING ROAD

Story by: Lizz Burris (AR) Photos by: Von Ptake (MI)

   As I visit each orchid again in the lower woods, I hear the other birds of the forest playing in the treetops or rustling the decaying leaves below. A busy world that little affects me as I search for my nectar.
    In a meadow I see a family of rabbits munching on the leaves of a trumpet vine covered in flowers. I dip down to investigate those flowers and see Ole Clyde and a female that I don’t know, have found this retreat, too. I hover a moment at a small distance, then back into a nearby tree.   Watching them from that distance, although irritating it is safe, as no one other than an uneducated juveniles, would attempt to chase Clyde away. We all respected him for his age and knowledge of the area, not to mention his agility.
    Soon Clyde has finished and flies to a sycamore limb to preen as the little female checks the flowers for any nectar that Clyde may have missed. I swoop down and scare her. She seems sweet and kind.
    “My name is Buddy. What’s yours?” I said boldly.
    Hovering to the side of me, she says, “I’m Claire. It’s nice to meet you. Can we share these flowers?”

“Sure.” I trill back, then fly into a flower just up from us. She too returns to checking for golden nectar.
Suddenly, I hear a sound to my left and Clyde has spotted us and jets down to chase me from his flowers and Claire. “Get out of here, Buddy! These flowers are mine!” Clyde shouts at me in a high pitched twitter. I obediently fly to the limb far above the flowers to preen.
Clyde and the pretty Claire play around the flowers before he departs on down into the woods that I have just visited. I race over to Claire and chatter, “Maybe I’ll see you at the Feeder House Diner this afternoon.”

But I am beginning to get hunger for some fruit flies or gnats.   So off I go on up along the ridge of pines and down to a small farm with pear and apple trees, certain of a tasty meal.
    And I am not disappointed, for among the fallen fruit I find the fruit flies that I desire. Zigzagging through the orchard I catch numerous insects. Finally satisfied of that craving, I perch near a pear, balancing on one leg and scratch my head.
    A nearby noise causes me to startle as a large bumble bee buzzes up to the pear beside me. I stand back, knowing that a bee is not to be tangled with near his food. After a brief moment of hovering, I decide that it is time to go look for the cool nectar of a feeder.
    The midday sun is hot and I really need a long drink so I fly to the human’s house and search for any feeders. None. Down the hot and dusty road I fly. After a mile or more I find another house and race to look for a feeder.

“Great. See you later.” she smiles and races after her protector. I sigh and smile and then visit each flower for neglected nectar and find several.

“Ah-ha! “ I exclaim out of sheer delight as I see a feeder hanging on a post in the yard. Racing up to it, my heart pounds with excitement as I stick my beak into the first flower.
“Yuck!” I chirp. “That is the nastiest tasting stuff I have ever seen.” I check the second flower and it smells and tastes the same. Sadly I leave the yard and continue my search for a fresh clean feeder.

Finally another long and winding mile up the road, I spot another human’s house and a feeder. This time I am lucky and the nectar is cool and sweet. I drink

for the longest time not bothered by other competition. The shaded feeder’s nectar replenishes the energy I so badly needed and I am content. A fine mist of dew is being sprayed near the feeder and I race through it to cool myself and for a relished shower to wash the dust from my feathers.

After a lengthy preening and scratching, I charge up to the feeder again for a final fill-up before departing. The sun is making longer shadows and I know its time to find my way back to the Feeder House Diner to prepare for nightfall.