Hummingbirds

I spend a good deal of my time watching hummingbirds. I don't give a fuck if that makes me sound like a senior citizen (which, as it turns out, I nearly am). 

Our city has nine different species of hummingbirds: white-eared sapphire, Lucifer, broad-billed, violet-crowned, blue-throated, ruby-throated, black-wattled, broad-tailed, and Rufous. 

I'd be lying if I said I could accurately identify all of them. Some are less common than others, and the males and females of each species look different, so it's tricky. I can tell you that they're all small, hover, fly fast, and are colorful (some more than others). They also consume a shit-ton of sugar water.

We have five feeders in our back garden, and based on a formula that factors how much sugar water we go through in a day (around 2.5 quarts), we feed over 400 hummingbirds daily.

It saddens me to think about how hard these little critters have worked to bring me such joy. Survival is a challenging business for them. Torpor, one of their main mechanisms for survival, is worth reading up on if you're somewhat nerdy and have lots of extra time on your hands, like me. 

As an old friend once slurred to me while shit-faced drunk and barely able to stand: "They're fascinating creatures." We were touring Monty's Traveling Reptile show at the Minnesota State Fair, and he was remarking on reptiles, but the same difference. 

I can guarantee this won't be my last entry on hummingbirds. Like it or lump it.