Rubies Galore
In the Nov/Dec 2007 issue of The Sandpiper, we wrote about gardening to attract Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, my favorite bird. We discussed the inspiration provided by our chapter’s field trip to the Baiting Hollow Hummingbird Sanctuary, and how it was there I learned how to refine my selection of flowering plants.

What a great show the hummers put on in my garden this year! This may have resulted from the garden refinements, a particularly good late summer hummingbird migration, or both. Following are some of my observations. Before I begin this chronicle, I will confess that I am uncharacteristically indulging in anthropomorphism, ascribing human motives to animal behavior. I won’t, however, make a habit of this.

My first hummer of the season arrived on August 30th, a little later than usual. From then until September 8th, I would generally see a single individual at any particular time, feeding on Salvia, Cardinal Flower, and other plants. On the 8th, however, I had my first hummer to use the nectar feeders. On the 16th, there were two hummers in the yard, and they engaged in a long and amusing battle over feeding territory. Both birds fed on Honeysuckle, Salvia, Cardinal Flower and the nectar feeders. They also provided excellent views while perching. At one point, they sat about eight inches apart on a bare branch, and seemingly stared each other down for several minutes.

The following day, there were four or five hummers. This level of activity continued for the next week or so, and it was becoming apparent that one individual was holding a feeding territory, and expending a huge amount of time chasing away her rivals. Of course, as soon as she would chase one rival away, another would arrive at the feeders from another direction! I named this aggressive adult female “Terri,” for “territorial”.

On September 21, I watched an immature hummer struggle unsuccessfully to learn the secret of the nectar feeders. She tried hard to find the feeding port, but to no avail. On the 23rd, there was a vigorous encounter between Terri and one of her competitors. It took place right over my head, and I was able to hear interesting “screech-click” vocalizations, of which I later found a recorded version on one of my bird call tapes (Stokes). Terri had a favorite perch on a leafless branch of an oak tree about 12 feet high. From there she surveyed her domain and launched her attacks at her rivals whenever they approached the feeders. I watched one particularly clever individual learn to approach one of the feeders from such an angle that the feeder blocked Terri’s view of her rival’s approach. When the subordinate hummer would feed, she would periodically elevate a few inches to peek over the top of the feeder, in Terri’s direction, to make sure she was still undetected. What great fun to watch!

On September 24th, I decided to sit in the garden and see how late into the dusk the hummers would remain active. There were three or four present, including Terri. They displayed an obvious burst of crepuscular activity, active even for hummingbirds. Evidently, they needed this time to fuel their rapid metabolism through the night. As darkness ensued, the hummers took on a ghostly appearance in the fading light. Terri seemed more tolerant of her competition, apparently more interested in filling up on nectar before setting down to roost.

On September 27th, the weather turned nasty, due to an intense subtropical storm and the offshore passage of Hurricane Ike. These weather systems were evidently the cue to Terri and company to resume their southbound migration. As of this writing, in early October, I’m still hoping for another wave of migrant hummers, which make all of my gardening worth the effort.