Two Birds

Roadrunner came for a visit the other day, stopping near the front of the house. 

He found a dead hummingbird, and catlike, played with his food.

It tasted like old shoe leather and he spit it out on the rocks.

"Am I really that hungry?"

"Nah! I'm outta here!"

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Transitions

It's early September, and already there are signs that things are changing.  

Wild grapes are starting to ripen, and overhead, 

blue-winged teal have passed in swift flight, heading for their winter home.

This time of year, many of our feathered visitors are fairly new to the world.  

A young red-bellied woodpecker balances with his stubby tail 

as his long tongue probes for treasures between the boards on our deck...

before contemplating the food in the feeder.

Newly fledged purple finches come singly and in groups.  

They seem unafraid; 

I nearly had to chase one away to fill the bird feeder yesterday.  

Their flight skills haven't been honed yet, 

and we root them on as they flutter in the air, trying to find a perch.  

Aren't landings tricky?

Young titmice find dozens of ways to entertain themselves...

and us.

These young birds will be here through the winter, but the hummingbirds are preparing for their long migration south.  They swarm the feeders, like teenagers at an iphone sale, the wind from their tiny wings rustling petals of the cleome below, and fanning our faces when we stand close.  They drink from the feeders and the surrounding flowers as if their life depended on it, which in fact it may; a third of them will be lost in their grueling upcoming flight over the ocean.

We'll miss their chatter and the hum of their wings, their brilliant flashes of color and startling animation.

In our changing world, it's good to know one constant.  The Savior who loves us and gave His life for us, is always true, and extends His mercy day after day, in every season.

For the Lord is good and His love endures forever;

His faithfulness continues though all generations.

Psalm 100:5





Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

The Last Hummingbird?

Every year, in early April, 

we start watching for the appearance of the first hummingbird.

 Our earliest sighting was on the 8th, 

and they're usually here within a few days of that.

These flying jewels must have had a hard time in the Yucatan last winter, 

or on their flight back, 

because only a few of them returned to fight over our feeders.  

After the first nesting, when the next generation came around, 

they made up for the slow start.  

They kept us busy filling the feeders, 

and fascinated us with their acrobatic flights.

The last hummer could be leaving any day now, and they watch the sky, 

their tiny feathers fluffed against the cold.  

We'll miss them when they go.  

Maybe, somewhere in the Yucatan, someone's watching out the window, 

waiting for the first hummingbird.  

Hope they enjoy them as much as we do.




Linking with Camera Critters

Lessons From a Hummingbird

We had an unexpected guest a couple of weeks ago. Don and I were downstairs in the afternoon when we heard one of Barley's rare barks, loud and deep, and we went running up the stairs, expecting to see someone at the door. No one was there, and we forgot about it until after dinner, when Don saw the cause of Barley's alarm.

A female hummingbird was buzzing methodically back and forth in front of the high windows, as if mowing some invisible lawn; she must have flown in earlier through the front door, unnoticed, and she looked exhausted.

We opened the sliding glass door and hot air rushed in, but the little bird didn't notice that freedom was only a few feet away. The problem was, she kept flying toward the light from the high windows, and she needed to come down to get through the door.

She came down briefly, twice, perching on my shoulder, tugging my heartstrings, but flew up again before we could help her. Finally, Don grabbed the closest broom, and I held it near her, bristles up.  She quickly latched on to one of the bristles with her tiny feet and hung on while I moved the broom down gingerly until it was in front of the open door. She didn't need to think twice, but zipped out the door and into the freedom of the wild blue.

I'm trying to take a lesson from my small feathered friend-- to wait and trust, and when I need help, to take what's offered. I also need to remember, when Barley barks, it means something.

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him;

   do not fret...

Psalm 37:7

Linking with Imperfect Prose
and Camera Critters

Prepping For Migration

This adolescent male ruby-throated hummingbird

has a favorite perch among the flowers,

where he was preening the other day...

showing off his crewcut...

imitating a Boeing 727...

admiring his Rolex...

and zipping up his flight suit.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Possible Perils

It's cool out this evening, with a slight breeze,

which feels delightful after the stifling heat of this summer. 

I sit on the deck, surrounded by the sounds of birds and insects.

A male ruby-throated hummingbird hovers in front of me,

about six inches from my face, for a full twenty seconds.

He turns, and the sun lights his brilliant throat.

I hold still, and wonder how I would fare if he decided to attack.  

(Yikes!)   

Life could be very exciting if all our imaginary perils happened.

And, come to think of it, quite a bit shorter.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Trumpet Players

It's another hot morning, and I'm out early watering the flowers. 

The trumpet vine catches my attention; 

as the first rays of sunlight illuminate its blossoms, 

it attracts a crowd of small creatures.

Into these miniature versions of a McDonald's play station, 

hummingbirds plunge and drink deeply, wrapped in orange light.

 There's a quiet resting place for the chipping sparrow...  

...but the carpenter bee heads straight into the blossom to do its job.

I count off a full 10 seconds before it emerges. 

It must be loath to come out, enveloped in that happy color, but it has more work to do. 

 On its fuzzy coat, it carries pollen to the next brilliant blossom, 

while honoring the One who taught it to do so.

Water splashes by my feet; I move the garden hose, 

and with the small creatures, I whisper my thanks.





Praise the Lord from the earth...

small creatures and flying birds...

Psalm 148:7, 10





Thanks to Kim Klassen for her lovely texture Elevate.

Linking with
Mandarin Orange Monday
Texture Tuesday
Wild Bird Wednesday

Hummers Are Back!

It's delightful to have the hummingbirds back.  

This ruby-throated female has already found a favorite perch near the feeders.

The male, of course, is busy making sure he looks good.

He turns his head, and his ruby throat turns to glittering bronze.

He needn't worry.

He looks very good indeed.