Gone To The Birds

This week, my memories have gone to the birds… literally.  I have seen and heard a plethora of birds.  Beautiful blue birds flutter around my birdhouses, nesting as they do every spring.  The robin with it’s rusty red breast has made it’s debut on my fence, singing a beautiful tune. The mocking birds with their mega list of songs, perch in trees near my bedroom window, lulling me to sleep with their wonderful tunes.  Even a redheaded woodpecker appeared on my deck dressed in his formal attire.

But, the latter part of March and April marks the return of the “jet-helicopter” of the bird world. The ruby-throated hummingbird is a delightful memory of spring, that I can hardly wait to relive.  These tiny birds are masters of flight, even briefly flying backwards and upside down. The wings beat about 55 times per second during feeding and can top 200 beats per second during fast maneuvers and male courtship. Flight speeds often exceed 60 miles per hour, and heartbeats sometimes approach 1,200 per minute and breathing 250 respirations per minute.  This much energy may take up to 1,500 flower visits to sip nectar each day.  With the metabolism of a hummingbird,  a 200-pound man would have to eat the equivalent of 400 pounds of hamburger each day to stay alive… Wow… it’s no wonder the fascination I have for the tiny little birds.

And… the nests, so tiny I have yet to find one.  The female ruby-throated hummingbird builds a half-dollar size nest made of plant down, tied together with spider webs and adorned with lichens for camouflage. It is placed on a small limb from 10 to 30 feet above the ground, where two honeybee-size birds emerge in 16 to 18 days from pea-size eggs.  It almost seems like a fairy tale involving fairies.  The world’s smallest secret. 

This fascinating little bird flies nonstop across the Gulf of Mexico, a distance of nearly 500 miles in 18 to 20 hours, to winter in southern Mexico or northern Central America. This tremendous migration, is  phenomenal.  It requires the hummingbird to double its body weight.  I even admire that, in the tiny bird.  Doubling my body weight would certainly cause me to be grounded.

Will I see the tiny creatures this spring and summer?  Will I be privileged to finally find a nest?  Hopefully both events will happen.  In the mean time, my binoculars are ever in my hand, waiting for my precious memory to return.