bjork@NISC.SRI.COM (01/11/91)
I installed a small hummer feeder early this summer. I was a little worried that it wouldn't be patronized since I live near a busy street and had to hang it out a second story apartment window near the roof. No need for me to have worried. The hummers spotted it the second day! They really *do* seem to have good eyesight. I'll bet they know just what it means when they see some thingie hanging down, and they go investigate just to be on the safe side. Hunger helps, too, I'm sure. Over the summer it seemed to have attracted a minor following. I usually managed to keep it regularly filled with a standard solution, no color. Mostly there were perhaps six to eight regular customers stopping over to sample the wares. I could tell the several customers by their habits, some would tend to weave as they fed, others kept their feet clenched a certain way, some would bob in and out of the feeder spout in a funny pattern, etc. Much, much fun to watch them, I could stand in my bedroom about two feet from the feeder. Only bad thing is that the lighting was from behind in the afternoons, making for little to no iridescence on the bodies. One day in particular really stands out in my memory. I had filled the feeder with fresh solution, and had a hummer start feeding as soon as I had tilted the bottle up onto the hook--before I had straightened the bottle, before I had let go, my head was one foot from the little guy! But that was just the warmup act. No sooner than the first one finished (and I had let go of the bottle, but was still hanging out the window), another one whizzes up and gorges away. This one was feeding like I'd never seen before, it kept drinking, pulling back and working its tongue away, then going back for more, doing this act time after time. I was able to get the screen back in place, and then two hummers come up and begin to feed... One would push in and drink away, the other would close in until I could hear the wings brushing the other, then the other would pull back and the new guy would slip in and drink away. They switched back and forth three or four times. While this was going on, another one flew up and hovered around, waiting for a chance to fit in. If this wasn't amazing enough, another one flew up as well. The original two took a breather, and the new two began the dance just like the previous two. Then, incredibly, one fit in next to the other, and *both* began to feed from the one spout! I was completely entranced... The other two were still there, and then, yet *another* one comes up to wait its turn! Five hummers whirring away... The air was very still, the late day was still nice and warm, it was relatively quiet, and here was this absolute crowd of hummers around this one little feeder. The dual pair fed in tandem for perhaps five seconds, then slipped back into "dance" mode, with one feeding as the other's tongue worked like mad, hovering there. By now I was a complete zombie. I'd never seen anything like this before, let alone watch it from two feet away. The level in the feeder had dropped quite noticeably, these guys were taking in an amazing amount of "juice." Finally one of the newcomers pushes in and begins to guzzle. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a blur, and carefully look around, counting, *yow* now there's *six* hummers within a four foot airspace! This didn't last, I guess some of the early ones were pretty glutted and perhaps went to roost (the feeder has no platform). All in all, the crowd must have lasted for perhaps two to three minutes, with the dual dance the mainstay of the show, spotlighted by the tandem drink. All the rest of the daylight, I could hear the screeching of the hummers as they came bombing up to the feeder, guzzling a considerable amount of juice from the fresh batch. I suspect this may have been the start of the migration for some of them, and they were tanking up for the long haul. --Steven