hummingbird hatchlings

Hummingbirds, Day 24: Taking wing

Come to the edge.
We might fall.
Come to the edge.

It’s too high!
COME TO THE EDGE!
And they came,
and he pushed,
and they flew.

–Christopher Logue

 

Early this morning, I visited our hummingbird high-rise. I counted two heads poking up over the nest, two beaks facing the sun. 

 
As I carried my coffee to my office, I caught wing flurries out of the corner of my eye. A walnut-sized lump settled in my throat. Today, they’ll learn to fly.  I climbed the ladder for one last picture of the two hummingbird hatchlings, nestled together in their tiny home.


 

Just a few minutes ago, I stopped by the picture window again. As if on cue, one of the birds suddenly pushed itself off the edge of the nest, like a jet backing away from the terminal. For a few long seconds, it hung suspended in mid-air, flapping its tiny wings good-bye. Then it propelled itself forward, darting up, up and away. 

 

  
I spotted two newly-laid eggs just over a month ago. And now, one bird remains in the nest. No, I’m not crying. Not me. Pfft, why do you ask?
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Hummingbirds, Day 24: A naming contest!

Since our hummingbirds will be striking out on their own fairly soon, we should probably give them a proper send-off. [info]sbennettwealer suggested a naming contest – a great idea, and I’m game if you are!

 

The rules are simple:

 

1)      Propose a pair of names suitable for hummingbirds as wondrous as these

2)      Write your entry into the comments thread of this post

3)      Extra credit for including both names in a poem or limerick

4)      The deadline for submission is Monday, 3/17 at 1:00 p.m., PDT.

 

The winning entry will be selected by a random salesperson at my local Wild Birds Unlimited.  The prize? A copy of Flight Plans: A Bird’s Eye View of Life.

 

*You might want to select gender-neutral names. Their coloring seems to suggest that they’re both female Costa’s Hummingbirds, but we won’t know for sure until they reach full maturity.

Ready? Here’s your inspiration:

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Hummingbird hatchlings, day 23

Be like a bird

That pausing in her flight

Awhile on boughs to light,

Feels them give way

Beneath her and yet sings,

Knowing that she hath wings.
Victor Marie Hugo

I’m imagining myself as that proud but admittedly obnoxious auntie who brags incessantly about her nieces and nephews, who whips out their most recent photos at every opportunity. I can’t help myself, I swear it. Our baby hummingbirds are just so adorable, and it’s been such a miracle to see them hatch and grow.

They’re so funny. Now and again, I’ll see one of them stretch, ruffle her* wings, and poke at her iridescent plumage with her very long beak. The second hummingbird, forced to the very edge of the nest by all the activity, gets a wild-eyed look that says, "Mom, she’s touching me! Tell her to move over!" Just when it seems one or the other’s about ready to topple overboard, they both get really still — almost as if to say, "Whoa, that was scary!" But not long afterward, the other one follows suit, nudging her sister with her beak or an outstretched wing. "Hey, wanna try that again?"

Doesn’t look to me like they’re planning a weekend getaway, though. I’m glad to have them around, for whatever time they choose to stay.


*Their coloring seems to suggest that they’re both female Costa’s Hummingbirds. We won’t know for sure until they reach full maturity.

Hummingbird hatchlings, day 22

And once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been and there you long to return.

Leonardo da Vinci

By all accounts, these hatchlings should be flying by now. But if this snapshot’s any indication, it seems our hummingbirds plan to hunker down until Mama Bird stops feeding them or they tumble out the sides of their overstretched nest. 

I’d love to have the hatchlings hang around forever, but I realize their survival depends on their abilty to take wing and fly. I suspect that’ll happen very soon; in the meantime, I hope my hummingbird entries haven’t overstayed their welcome.

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Hummingbird hatchlings, day 21

While I was away doing research, our hummingbird hatchlings kept right on growing. In just five days, they’ve developed longer beaks, bigger bodies, and thicker plumage. As you can see, they’re almost full-grown, and they’re stretching their nest to its limits. 

Another homecoming treat: The citrus blossoms are finally opening in the orange tree where Mama Hummingbird built their home. The morning air is filled with their heavenly fragrance.

Are the hummingbird babies flying yet? I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know.

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Friday Five: truthiness edition

Five factiods for a Friday, plus a few embellishments, no extra charge.

1) A couple of memoirists got inducted into the liar’s club this week. Two Too many wrongs don’t make a right, of course, but it does seem that misery loves company.

2) While the recent memoir debacles aren’t the least bit funny, the Memoir-a-Tron makes me laugh. 

3) When Moses came down from Mt. Sinai with the Ten Commandments, was he really coming down from a drug-induced high? Perhaps, says cognitive psychologist Benny Shannon. I can’t attest to the soundness of his theory, but it might help explain why Moses wandered so long in the wilderness.


4) Twinkie Deconstructed tells more truths about processed foods than some of us might want to swallow. The Twinkie, for instance, gets its buttery taste from butyric acid, which author Ettlinger describes as “a natural component of Parmesan cheese, rancid butter, and, unbelievably, vomit and perspiration.” [Full disclosure: I’ve always hated Twinkies, but this isn’t a hit piece, I promise.]

5) Last, but certainly not least, I’d like to share one of my favorite quotations (dedicated to my good buddy, Linda Partlow), plus two new photos.
Finally…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. Philippians 4:8

 

The fifteen-day-old bird babies were slumbering when I approached their nest. But as soon as I snapped the first picture, their eyes popped open, and they stretched their necks toward the sky as if to say, “Mama, is that you?” and “Hey, where’s my food?”

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Bird watching

Our hummingbird hatchlings are two weeks old today. Still looking kind of scruffy, aren’t they?

I come from a long line of bird watchers – most notably, my Nana. While washing the dishes, she’d stare out the kitchen window, warbling “His Eye is on the Sparrow” to her canaries. She’d flap her arms excitedly when she heard a cooing dove or saw a red-breasted robin hopping across the grass. She was a wee little thing, with bird legs and a beakish nose. She watched my father like a hawk.

 

When I described my obsession with attentiveness to these hummingbirds, a close friend suggested I might be getting old. “Ornithology’s for senior citizens,” she said. “Next I know, you’ll be stalking birds in a netted vest and cargo shorts, huge binoculars slung around your neck, and sticks and feathers poking out from your floppy-brimmed hat.” Yeah, um, right. Wondering…Can you traipse through bird sanctuaries in Valentino sunglasses and flip-flops? 

Clipped wings

No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.
MaryJo Koch


Our hummingbird hatchlings, 13 days old

Oy. Two more memoirs have been exposed as elaborate fictions, both of them this week. Unbelievable.

I can’t begin to understand why these writers positioned their invented stories as fact. Why not present it as a child’s fantasy? Why not write it as a novel? And, for that matter, why introduce a memoir as “intensified reality,” when it’s more appropriately placed in a different genre altogether? Whatever their individual justifications, I’m sad about their decisions. I worry that they might negatively impact those of us who enjoy memoir, readers and writers alike. 

It’s true that each of us views the world through a unique lens, that our perspectives are therefore limited. But when memoirists purposefully blur the line between reality and imagination, they risk compromising the truth about who they are. I don’t want to come across all holier-than-thou, but I do think it’s essential to keep this in mind. Sure, I want to sell my memoir, CAN I GET A WITNESS? I’d like to think that my personal story will someday have big-tent appeal. But my integrity? It’s not for sale — not ever, and not at any price. 

Memoirist Rachel Manija Brown says, “Fiction which is not emotionally honest is artistically bankrupt. Memoir which is not factually honest is morally bankrupt. It is a writer’s moral and artistic obligation to tell the truth in the manner that is appropriate to the story they wish to tell.”  What else can I add but amen?



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Mother Nature’s much wiser than I

Whew, these babies sure are a handful! Growing chicks need to eat every 15 to 20 minutes, so Mama Hummingbird’s chasing down food most of the day.

How do I know this? Well, hovercraft concerned "auntie" that I am, I called Wild Birds Unlimited when I didn’t see her for a couple of days. They put me in touch with someone from the hummingbird branch of the Wildlife Rehabilitation Society, who indulged my worry-wart tendencies urged me to sit still at the window and watch for her. Sure enough, Mama Hummingbird buzzed by within twenty minutes. Using a fighter-jet refueling maneuver, Mama Hummingbird buzzed alongside the nest, dropping food down her babies’ beaks. 

Incidentally, the rescue worker assured me that I wouldn’t scare away the hummingbirds by taking their picture now and again. “They’re hardy little things,” she said. She did suggest putting a blanket or something soft at the base of the tree, since it’s surrounded by gravel-covered soil. “They’re daredevils, so don’t be surprised if they take several spills while they’re learning how to fly. If you find them lying on the ground, just scoop ‘em up and put ’em back in the nest.” Whew, one less thing for me to worry about!
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A matter of perspective?

1. Again?! Yet another memoirist was caught throwing truth to the wolves. Unbelievable.

"Be sure your sins will find you out," my father used to preach. Touch of irony, that. 

But there’s a great deal of truth to what he said. It’s peeking out from the pages of this fabricated story.

Hmm…I feel a sermon blog entry coming on. 

2. Hello, hummingbirds, Day 11! This picture’s way bigger than they are. Truth is, this nest (birds and all) is only about an inch-and-a-half long. But in another ten days or so, the hatchlings will be full-fledged hummingbirds!