Chatterbox, Fierce Guardian of the Feeder

It's late summer and things are pretty crazy at the hummingbird feeder these days. There are at least four or more regulars who are eating as much as they can, stocking up, getting ready for their long journey that will begin in about a month. (Learn more about hummingbird migration here.)

There is one male hummingbird - I call him Chatterbox - who is in our butterfly garden almost constantly. He has appointed himself the fierce guardian of the feeder. This is a picture of Chatterbox during a rare moment when he has his mouth shut.  ;-)

He likes to sit in a lilac bush near the butterfly garden and from that vantage point, he chases away any other hummers who come to eat. When I go out in the morning, he is there, and he chatters and chirps his good morning to me. I sing my answer back, feeling like some kind of Disney princess.

Monday was a beautiful day, sunny and breezy, and a bit cooler than it had been. It is glorious weather, just perfect, and I could almost see my breath in the morning for the first time. Could that be fall coming, that I smell upon the evening air?

I did some serious adulting on this morning - my husband and I finally got our chance to seal the driveway. It was a lot of work, as per usual, but we did it together, and that made it doable.

I had taken a vacation day (yes, a VACATION DAY) from work to do the driveway project. That's when you know you are really an adult, when you start marking vacation time from work for house and yard projects. Oh, how I wished we could have spent this day in the woods! But there will be plenty of time for that. Soon, yes, soon.

But in the mid- to late afternoon, after we'd completed our work, and done all the clean-up, and showered, and admired our handiwork, and had a couple of quick toasted cheese sandwiches to fill our starving tummies, my husband and I sat in the yard and watched the little birds.

What a circus it was. Or maybe more like skirmishes in war time. Hummingbirds flying in every direction, chirping, doing crazy didos in the air. But I realized two things quickly: one, Chatterbox is getting worn out with all that chasing; and two, the other birds aren't getting their fair share at the feeder.

So I went inside and filled another hummingbird feeder and brought it out and put it in a separate part of the yard, not visible from the butterfly garden where Chatterbox hangs out. I know the little birds have already found it there.

My husband tells me that I am sort of trying to be "the Mommy" to the hummingbirds, making sure everyone gets fed, and treated fairly. And perhaps that is true. I can't bear to see any of them go hungry. I want them all to be happy.

I also had an interesting thought, one that stabbed me to the heart. I love the hummingbirds so much, and I ache for them when they are gone. My whole life, I have wanted hummingbirds, and now I finally have them. The yard is only complete when they are there, and they seem to love it there as much as I love them.

I wondered . . . when they have made their long journey south, do the little birds sit and remember our quiet, green yard, with the long shadows and the monarda that have been planted just for them? Do they long to return home? Somewhere in the very depths of winter, is there a hummingbird that will dream of me?

The soundtrack: Van Morrison's Hungry For Your Love.