Our homemade hummingbird feeders attach at approximately waist level to the two-by-four railing that runs around our second story porch. This puts the hummers down with us when they stop by for refreshers between bouts of very small game hunting. Once they arrive mid-April or so, we wind into the lives of these brilliant dynamos to the point of familiarity. That is, we share the porch space freely, with the hummers chasing past our heads or otherwise threading their paths through ours. It becomes something of a dance, we humans walking along the porch or in the garden, the hummingbirds dipping, weaving, zipping around us. Except for unusually marked birds, like one albinous male black-chinned that drops by, I can’t identify individuals. Some of them, however, have no trouble recognizing me. Continue reading “Dances with hummingbirds”
Wilderness Interface Zone 