These photos are wonderful! Thank you for posting them (tho how could you not?). Let me tell you this: Some years ago, in Wyoming, I put out feeders for the Rufus Hummers that summer there. I would sit on the deck within feet of the feeders and marvel at the audacity and confidence or these slick little birds. They seemed to ignore me if I didn't move quickly. Such a fine example of ability and confidence. One day I noticed a small, drab hummer approaching a plastic blossom near my favored seat. He seemed a glutton; unlike the usual behavior, he entered the blossom and fed for several seconds without backing out to scan for predators. He drank long and deeply. Unable to resist, I reached up and gently touched him on the back between his wings. No reaction. I waited a moment and tried again, stroking his back very lightly. He finally backed up, exposing his eyes, and looked around. I froze instantly. Thinking there was no danger, he again went to the well and drank deeply. I touched him again. This was repeated three times. At last, so amused that I could not help it, I broke into laughter upon his last withdrawal. Seeing my movement and hearing the sounds I made, he left in a great rush. I realized that he was a fledgling, just off the nest and not wise to the ways of the world. In a flash he was gone, wiser, I hope, due to my harmless affections. I still chuckle at the thought of teaching a life lesson to a teaspoon full of bird.
Some years ago, in Wyoming, I put out feeders for the Rufus Hummers that summer there. I would sit on the deck within feet of the feeders and marvel at the audacity and confidence or these slick little birds. They seemed to ignore me if I didn't move quickly. Such a fine example of ability and confidence.
One day I noticed a small, drab hummer approaching a plastic blossom near my favored seat. He seemed a glutton; unlike the usual behavior, he entered the blossom and fed for several seconds without backing out to scan for predators. He drank long and deeply. Unable to resist, I reached up and gently touched him on the back between his wings. No reaction. I waited a moment and tried again, stroking his back very lightly. He finally backed up, exposing his eyes, and looked around. I froze instantly. Thinking there was no danger, he again went to the well and drank deeply. I touched him again. This was repeated three times. At last, so amused that I could not help it, I broke into laughter upon his last withdrawal. Seeing my movement and hearing the sounds I made, he left in a great rush.
I realized that he was a fledgling, just off the nest and not wise to the ways of the world. In a flash he was gone, wiser, I hope, due to my harmless affections. I still chuckle at the thought of teaching a life lesson to a teaspoon full of bird.