hummolitshort4

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN AMERICAN HUMMINGBIRD

Short Story Page 4

SUPPER AT THE O.K. CORRAL

Story by: Lizz Burris (AR) Photos by: Von Ptake (MI)

Leisurely I meander toward the Feeder House Diner, visiting five yards along the way, two with feeders. Occasionally I would see a familiar face and we would play a game of �Stay Away from my Feeder.� Dashing after each other in a well loved game. But the sun was dipping farther and farther in the sky.
Finally I could see our favorite cafe up ahead and flew to a maple tree to see what was happening. The rush had not begun just yet but I knew it would start at anytime. I zipped to a large strawberry shaped feeder and grabbed three sips before Dirk saw me and began to chase me back and forth through the yard.

Knowing that I could out-run Dirk was comforting but still he was right on my tail. Then he sees another male Ruby at one of the feeders and dismisses me for a go at the new guy. Calmly I preen in a nearby tree before slipping down to the window feeder for a cool appetizer.
The late afternoon breeze is light and assists in allowing Dirk to maneuver easily in his chase of the unknown male. They race past me and I feel uncomfortable. As they come back by, I lift away from the feeder and the new guy takes my place. Dirk is right there buzzing him but the new guy stands strong and grabs a couple of quick sips before turning to chase Dirk. I chuckle at the thought of Dirk being chased and slip back to the feeder perch for several more sips.
From behind me, Sammie Jo rushes up and calls out, �I have little ones to feed, if you don�t mind, Buddy.� I fly over to a cardinal vine and sip from it, while she drinks and drinks. Soon she is off around the house and gone. I return to the window feeder for more of the golden nectar, only to find Tiffany sipping.

�Hey Tiffany! How�s it going?� as I join her at the other perch.
    �How did you know my name?� she asks.
    �My friend, Larry told me this morning.� Talking with her now, I can understand why Larry was attracted to her. She had the longest neck I had seen in a long while.
    �Oh, yes, Larry.� she chirps. � Gosh he�s a persistent fellow, isn�t he?� She giggles, then turns to fly over to another feeder while I watch.

Suddenly from over my shoulder, I see Clyde and he�s heading straight for me. I rise up and hover above the feeder but he is still coming for me.
    �I see you�ve been talking with my girl, Claire.� he says.
    Stuttering just a little, I reply the first thing to come to my head. �I didn�t think there was any harm in being polite.� I fly up and Clyde follows.
    �Buddy, boy, you just need to keep your beak shut and you�ll do alright.� he chatters away at me. As I fly up and down, he remains in my face.
    �Won�t that make it a little hard to eat?� I tease him, then realize that Clyde is no mood to kid around.
    I watch for a chance to escape and finally find one when Sammie Jo sneaks around the corner. But Clyde�s attention jumps back to me as quick as it left and he is chasing me all over the yard and even through the thick foliage of several cedar trees. Finally I dip down through a cedar and out to a trellis of moonflowers, just starting to open. Clyde loses sight of me and swings back to the yard quickly filling with other hummingbirds eager for a nibble before dark.
     On a far branch I see Claire and Tiffany chasing each other and I go to a forsythia bush near them to watch. Over my shoulder I see a swarm of gnats forming and zip through them for a bite. This catches the eye of the girls and they momentarily stop their game and follow suit. Fearing that Clyde would catch me with the girls, I moved on to a branch high in an oak tree. A vantage point perfect for watching the girls and all the games.
    The summer sun is slowly dropping off to sleep and I know I have little time before I will do the same thing. No time for games now, so I head back down to the feeders, catching a quick sip at two different ones and showing no fear to the juveniles that attempt to chase me away.
    Now I must go to my nightly roost in an old tree a quarter of a mile away. I often wondered why this location feels so comforting and why I keep coming back. Larry says that it�s always a fun place to hang out, but I think it runs deeper than that. Possibly this is where I was raised. I will never know as each year it looks a little different, but somehow I find it and return to it for my summers.

Larry appears on a nearby limb while I scratch and preen to prepare for the night.
   �Where did you go?� he chirps.
    �Oh just around.� There was no sense in telling all of my secret feeder locations.
    The sky is darkening and I squeak a �good night� to Larry and fly deep within the tree�s foliage to my favorite limb. It�s dark in there, which makes me even sleepier. I perch and look up at the stars that I can faintly see through the limbs. I see the stars; my navigational tools and think that not long from now I will be heading south, across that wide body of water called the Gulf. As I think of that time to come, I drop off to sleep and rest until the next day in the life of an American hummingbird.