Too stupid to die…

More on the hummingbird saga unfolding in my back yard Regular posts will resume soon! (Written Sunday/Monday May 3/4.)

Over the last week Patience the hummingbird has worked dawn to dusk feeding her two chicks. They’re thriving, growing from pea-sized bits of gelatinous gray to wiggly lumps spiked with the beginnings of feathers and an orange beak, all of which still can’t quite fill a teaspoon. Back and forth she went hunting nectar and bugs, feeding the two several times an hour. Often, when I used the hose nearby, she repeated her “request” for water and I obliged by spraying the nearby plants. Her absences allowed me better views of the two little things though I always backed away when I heard her returning buzz. The weather at last cooperated too, with cool days and little wind.

As days went by she seemed less concerned about visitors to the yard, human or otherwise. She expressed no worry at all about Otto or me and ignored the robins, finches and doves. She still wasn’t too pleased with the European starlings bug-hunting below her tree however, and I can’t say I blame her. The starlings are the obnoxious tourists of the bird world, squawking and squabbling, hogging and fouling the bird dish and even bathing in Otto’s drinking bowl. Otto dispatches them whenever he sees them.

I noticed that the chicks don’t peep and squabble or do anything at all while mom’s gone, unlike most other young birds. The nest is not even 5 feet/1.5m off the ground yet you’d never know they were there if you didn’t know where to look. This seemed to me to be just too quiet for any little critter and I wondered if everything was going all right. I found the answer – and many other bits of useful information – from the amazing and exhaustive World of Hummingbirds website. The silence is a safety measure, to ensure that nothing gives their presence away while mom is off foraging. The chicks hunker down deep in their nest and wait until they feel/hear mom’s wings, then perk up for a feeding. Considering how often and long she was gone, this made sense.

By Saturday the 2nd, Patience was almost never around. I saw her feeding the chicks only once during the day. I didn’t think too much about it; I hadn’t been out back much and figured I’d just missed her. Besides, her absences allowed for lots of nest views for myself and others. The chicks had grown to the point that their beaks had lost the baby orange (already!) and were growing into a point. Their bodies were bigger too, taking up over half of the little nest’s depth.

Saturday night when I took Otto down for his pre-bedtime pee, I checked the nest. Still no Patience! I freaked. Yes, the chicks were bigger and it probably wasn’t that comfortable to be sitting on them, but still: they were only as big as a small strawberry. How could they stay warm? I looked around the cherry tree to see if she was sitting nearby, but it was dark and she’d never shown much interest in sitting in it before. I violated a rule I’d set when this back yard episode of  ”Nature” began and went upstairs for a flashlight. Careful not to shine the light directly on the nest, I could see both chicks were quite alive, their metabolisms racing like they’d just run a race. Was this right? Where is mom?

Back upstairs, this time to the computer and the hummingbird website where I found the following:

After one week, the baby hummingbirds will be covered in tiny little fuzzy feathers making them look like a miniature prickly balls. Baby hummingbirds will usually have enough feathers to regulate their own body heat by about nine (9) days after hatching. The mother hummingbird will no longer need to sit on the nest all the time, and the baby hummingbirds are too big for the mother hummingbird to fit.

I checked the calendar. I’d noted the day the eggs were laid and the day they hatched. Saturday was day 10 post-hatch. The next morning the little guys were fine, beaks pointed out of the nest, waiting for their next nectar-and-bug smoothie. And so it goes, even through a gentle rain that has been around for the last couple days. I’ve seen Patience only once more, but her kids are growing fast. Fast. According to the website, she may actually be building another nest nearby so she can do it all over again before the season ends. Amazing. Maybe Patience isn’t that patient after all.

One last bit: according to the website, “toilet training comes built in… baby hummingbirds will do everything they can to dispose of waste over the side of the nest.” I read that after seeing it happen in the flesh, so to speak. I was looking at the pair when one suddenly made a move and raised itself up to the top of the nest. This was more effort I’d seen either of them expend. Once in position – hard to tell what the position was as they still look like spiky lumps with a beak – a tiny squirt ensued then the little bird collapsed back into the nest.  If only we mammals were similarly pre-programmed!

Update: I wrote the above Sunday/Monday. Today, Tuesday, the chicks almost fill the nest and their beaks can’t even remotely fit inside. Like I said, they’re growing fast. Patience couldn’t sit on them any more even if she wanted to. All they do is wait, metabolisms racing, for the next feeding. Oh, and grow. This is the most recent picture. They barely fit in their nest anymore!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 5th, 2009 at 6:40 pm and is filed under Essays, photography. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.