 Cup 'o Hummers Every year a smattering of Hummingbirds visit my yard. It's not the deluge of birds seen at some other riparian area feeders, just a small contingent of two Cariboo species, the Rufous and Calliope. The males are first to arrive, the females follow shortly thereafter. And, predictably, every year just as I begin to question why one big male Rufous hogs all of the feeders in the yard, he disappears, leaving all the feeders to the females. However, all is not yet the picture of tranquility. Bullying, chattering, and running aerial battles are the order of the day among the females too. That somehow seems logical though because each one of them needs a lot of energy to carry out the jobs of nest building and egg laying. What use did that big male Rufous have for all the energy he was jealously guarding? This year the usual six 'yard' hummingbirds have returned, set up shop and are using the sugar water dispenser hourly. As in past years they appear to be nesting somewhere in the surrounding forest. I judge the nesting activity by watching the many trips made to pull the fluff off of the old cattails I've stuck in the wire fence for just this purpose. But this year there is something different happening. A female Rufous Hummingbird has chosen to nest within sight of the house. When I saw her a few weeks back searching around the branches of a fir tree, the limbs of which dangle over the driveway, I thought she must be looking for insects to augment her sugar-water diet. Then I saw her doing what I thought was preening in the same location. The second time this happened I grew suspicious that she might indeed be planning to nest. I crept close to the branch in question and stared up. In a fork of the branch I saw a bit of moss, just a tuft. I moved quickly away still unconvinced that what I had seen was indeed the makings of a nest. Nevertheless, the Hummingbird kept returning to the spot. Soon it was obvious that she was tucking material under her body and using her feet to tamp it down and fashion it into a pad of fluff. She was building a nest! My first reaction was to get all crazy and try to photograph the process of nest building. I stacked up boards and planks, the better to get myself level with the limb which was about 2.25 metres above the ground on the steeply sloping part of the driveway. I was careful not to disturb the hummingbird as I constructed and eventually had a wobbly stack of lumber that, it became obvious, not do as a secure place from which to document the goings on of nest building. Luckily, after that, I noticed that the best view of the nest was from between the trunks of two fir trees, one of which held the nest in its branches. Here I positioned myself on my own two feet, with my old-fashioned 35 millimeter camera and waited. The Hummingbird arrived in short time. As close as I was, I knew I wouldn't be satisfied with the images I could get through the lens I had. As if to scold me for lurking so near, the Hummingbird flew past my forehead as it sped off for another load of nest material. That was it. I decided to give up on the whole idea of photography and sit back and enjoy the process. For four days I watched the Hummingbird and finally noticed that a shallow cup was being formed. Then one day decorative lichen appeared on the sides of the nest as if by magic. Was she done? The nest looked so small. A day later, quite late in the day, I noticed the Hummingbird sitting on the nest for about an hour. After that she leftt. Had she laid an egg? The suspense was more than I could bear. I just had to find some way to see what was in the nest. At first I was going to rig up a mirror then I thought of my small web camera with its time delay shutter. I could raise the camera up over the nest and photograph the contents using that. I found a long threaded rod and surprisingly it screwed neatly into the camera. I was ready to do some surveillance. As planned, I tripped the time delay shutter as I stood under the nest and then raised the camera on the rod so that it looked down into the nest. When I heard the 'beep' of the picture being taken I lowered the camera and hit the 'view' button. The picture was blurry but clearly showed one egg sitting in a downy cup of white material. After that I watched the nest carefully and was a bit concerned that the Hummingbird didn't seem to show any interest in sitting on the egg. Two days went by during which she visited the nest many times but never sat. I knew that most birds don't begin incubation until the whole clutch of eggs was laid but thinking of the lone egg sitting unattended for two nights made me nervous. What if there was a drop in night temperatures or a sudden rainfall? Eggs as big as those of a chicken can freeze if the temperature drops below zero. Imagine the plight of an egg about the size of a bean! At the end of day two the Hummingbird sat on the nest again. When she left I rushed out with the web cam on a rod and took another picture. There were now two eggs in the nest. Now would she sit? I was relieved to see the female Hummingbird on the nest as darkness fell. It is now day four of incubation and the female hummingbird rarely leaves the nest except to take a trip to the feeder. It's funny, as each step in the nesting process unfolds I catch myself wondering how this small bird knows what she is doing. When animals act out amazing feats without having been taught what they do, we call it instinct. When humans do it we call it genius. Whatever it is, it's a good feeling to watch it in action. It's like accepting the wonder of wonder for what it is – a thing of wonder. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
