GOLDEN-CAPPED RUBY-THROAT

When our good neighbor Mike came down the driveway hill for a chat the other afternoon, I noticed a dusting of yellow powder on the front of his tee-shirt, in his beard, and on the side of his cap. 

"Been doing yard work, eh?" I said, and grinned at Mike's puzzled look. I pointed at the yellow sprinkle. "Pollen. Hummingbirds visiting my bergamot have it on their heads. Y'all been poking around the same bloom patches."

I'm not sure which neighborhood flowers accounted for the golden-yellow pollen, but my first guess would be lilies. Lilies are a good candidate since the blooms have deep throats and long, protruding anther-tipped stamens holding yellow pollen. A feeding hummer has to shove it's head smack past this pollen dispensary in order to sip nectar—thus becoming an inadvertent pollinator, while ending up wearing a gold crown.  

I've been making a lot of hummingbird photos recently. Many of the tiny birds I'm currently seeing have pollen on their topknots. The shot above is an enlarged crop taken from another image, which itself was a slight crop from the original full frame. Quality is a bit on the "noisy" side. But otherwise, a decent portrait of a golden-capped ruby-throat hummer…or maybe just of a bird needing a bath.  

EVENING HUMMER

I found this Ruby-Throated Hummingbird investigating a patch of Bee Balm late yesterday evening. The sun was sinking and already behind the green wall of sycamores covering the island to the west across the river from the cottage. Because of the dim, fading light, I had no choice but to crank my camera's ISO way up—so the image is noticeably noisy. Plus I just missed getting all the zooming little hummer's left wingtip in the frame. Not a technically good photo.

But like the previous post's dragonfly shot, there's nevertheless something about this image I like…maybe the way the tiny bird almost seems to be watching me from the corner of it's eye. I can understand that—if I noticed such a hulking fellow stalking me, I'd keep a wary eye on him, too.  

———————

    

  

TODAY? TOMORROW?

Each morning I look out, staring into the darkness, checking for movement…expecting, wondering, hoping. 

A single question is uppermost in my mind: Is today the day?

I try to not be too discouraged by the empty moments. It is, after all a bit early. 

Cold, too—48˚F according to the big thermometer just beyond the breakfast table window. That's getting down there. And the weather oracles are calling for a low of 38˚F tomorrow night, which has to be the—

Wait! What's that? A tiny moving shape among the shadows. Yes! The rubythroats are still here…at least one, though who knows for how long. Tomorrow is the last day of September. The weather has been rainy, windy, and decidedly cool for the past week. Surely the little hummingbird now sipping from the feeder is one of the few lingerers remaining. 

The earth turns, time moves on, summer has given way to autumn which is following the endless circular path toward winter, a new year, another spring. So it has been; so it will be. To everything there is a season.

Nevertheless, I am blessed. Today I still have hummingbirds!

———————

ROCKS AND RUBY-THROATS

A sultry Sunday morning. Not as hot as it will be later in the day after the heat builds, but already warm enough to know it's coming. Also a possibility of scattered thunderstorms this afternoon which will only feel refreshing for a few minutes, but mostly add moisture to the already saturated air.

Yesterday, Myladylove (who has been on vacation all week) and I reworked the stones outlining the planting bed that runs alongside the cottage from the side deck to the rear corner—some thirty feet. These are big, heavy rocks, semi-boulders, several upwards of a hundred pounds, and all seemingly reluctant to be moved. Sweaty, brutish work that makes you appreciate the potential of a good mule. Mules being in rather short supply hereabouts, Myladylove and I substituted our weak and crumbling selves…and will no doubt feel the effects of our folly for days to come. We did, however, get the job done.

The day wasn't all sweaty labor, though. Two sugar-water hummingbird feeders hang only a few yards from where we worked, and the tiny ruby throats kept us constantly entertained—at times even zooming over for a close-up look at what was going on. Ruby-throats are extremely curious birds. They often hang in midair just beyond my workroom window and stare in, as if wondering what that fellow across the desk is doing. The little hummers are quite territorial, too, and don't play (or dine!) all that well with one another. There were constant chases, tail-flares, and high-speed aerial maneuverings and exchanges, all accompanied by a stream of excited mouse-like squeaking.

Nope, there's never a dull moment when the ruby-throats are around.

———————

HUMMER BUMMER

I'm dismayed at myself to see it has been a week since my last post. I have no good excuse except to say between the long holiday weekend, spending time with family, cookouts and photo ambles, an extra day off for Myladylove on Tuesday, columns to get out, plus appointments to doctors, the dentist and optometrist—not to mention yard chores and shopping and all the rest of the drattedly necessary time-consuming stuff which eats up so much of your life—I haven't had much opportunity to daydream, laze about with a good book, go fishing…or blog.

Toward that end—making a pix for a blog post—I did spend a bit of time on the deck this morning in my favorite rocking chair, ostensibly attempting to photograph the ruby-throated hummingbirds busily working the nearby nectar feeders. However, capturing good hummer images proved pretty much a bust because I'm seriously under-lensed for the situation at hand. Plus the feeders were in deep shade during the time, making for low light and the need to crank up the ISO beyond what I consider the optimum range for quality images.

Not that I much like feeder shots, anyway. My ideal goal was photos of these tiny feathered jewels in a more natural setting—hovering in midair or perched on a handy hackberry twig. The problem with successfully managing this latter objective is that you have to pay attention, keeping your eyes and mind focused, always watching and looking among the interlaced branches overhead for movement, a glimmer of iridescent green…and, of course, being ready to get the shot before the hummingbird zips away. In other words, you have to be keenly alert and primed for quick action.

That, I admit, was the real stumbling block for me on this particular day—the lack of ability to muster any prolonged stretch of paying attention. I'd settle down and hunker in, trying to keep a watchful eye in the foliage for hummer activity…but moments later find myself gazing at the river, my mind floating about like a loose fishing bobber. Then I'd look around just as one of the bright little birds, having sipped its fill, zoomed away.

With luck, this case of galloping ennui and muddled brain-function will be cured by a good night's sleep.

———————