January 25, 2009
Hummingbird tales
I've been watching a hummingbird spend a lot of time in the backyard recently. One afternoon -- January 17th, to be precise -- I noticed that it was spending some time alongside the garage, so I wandered back to see what was going on. There, in the crook of the trumpet vine growing on the fence, was a clump of gossamer-thin seeds and powder puffs, scarcely more substantial than pixie dust and moonbeams. It seemed my feathered friend was planning on starting a family. (Click on photo for larger version.)
I heard the thrumming of rapidly-beating wings and glanced up, just in time to see the nest's owner, clearly perturbed by my trespassing ways, as she zoomed in for a closer look at the bipedal interloper. I snapped a quick photo of her before she zipped away in a huff. Check out the patch of red on her throat, a common feature of hummingbirds around here.
By January 19th, the nest was becoming more substantial; the hummingbird had used the past two days to add more twigs, seeds, leaves and lichen to the structure, binding it all together with spider webs borrowed from the local arachnids. (Click on photo for larger version.)
The hummingbird apparently spent the next few days adding to her new home, scavenging materials from all over the backyard, shoring up the walls of her nest. As the rain fell on Ventura last week, I wondered how the nest would hold up; given the diminutive size of the builder and her handiwork, I wasn't hopeful. I took this picture yesterday, January 24th; it seems my concerns were unfounded. (Click on picture for larger version.)
This morning I saw the hummingbird sitting in the branches of the Golden Raintree. Suddenly, with startling speed, it shot down toward the ground and disappeared into the shadows alongside my house. I hurried to the bathroom window and peered out between the slats of the blinds. There she was, snuggling into the nest, shaking her tail feathers as she seemed to screw herself into the opening. I grabbed my camera and headed outside to get a closer look.
Moving slowly, steadily, I inched along the fence, seeing how long the bird would tolerate my presence. I snapped this image when I was about ten feet away from the nest. I slowly moved closer -- too close for comfort, apparently -- and with a thrum of wingbeats she was gone. I waited, still as could be, and soon heard the distinctive sounds of the hummingbird's call. A few minutes passed as she gauged my intentions, then returned, hovering for a few moments before darting back onto her nest.
I waited for a little while, then began inching forward again, taking care to seem as unthreatening as a human can be to a creature that weighs next to nothing and stands a couple of inches tall. By the time I took this photo, I was about four or five feet from the bird, who kept a watchful eye on me, but stayed put, nonetheless. (Click on image for larger version.)
Posted by Mike Lief at January 25, 2009 05:03 PM
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Comments
Wow! Great stuff. Please keep us posted on the progress of her eggs and the little hummingbirdlets!
Posted by: Kent at January 26, 2009 12:41 PM