An Exhausted Hummingbird Finds Her Second Wind

Have you ever heard arguing hummingbirds? It's an entertaining rumble of hovering madness to behold; they dip and dart in circles, peeping and pestering their opponent. Then they disappear as quickly as they zoomed in, as if all arguments were forgiven.

Their petite wings zip through my Kentucky garden from the end of spring through the end of summer; they're next to impossible to catch on camera as I plant seeds and pull weeds. Apparently, tiny wings are faster than my smart phone's camera shutter.

Beyond my failure as a hummingbird paparazza, I'm just grateful they chose my backyard to build nests and hatch little families. The magic of how exactly their wings can beat in such rapid succession boggles my mind and, again, makes me a grateful witness every year.

So naturally I was worried when I noticed one of the little guys sprawled out over my garden's dirt. Heat can really affect them. I empathize. Kentucky does have a couple of true scorchers that make outdoor activities exhausting.

It was definitely one of those scorchers that grounded my photo's featured buzzer. That hot and humid Kentucky day gave me the opportunity to not only provide a little refreshment to a struggling bird, but also, to finally snap a clear photo of her tiny green-grey form.

Her body camouflaged well with the dirt where she rested — I wouldn’t have noticed her at all if it wasn’t for the minute yet angry chirp she piped as I walked by.

She wasn’t zooming away as hummingbirds usually do upon seeing a human, so I checked for injuries. Both wings looked fine, and she was quite aware of my kneeling down to peek as the angry peeping continued.

Something about the bird looked tired, though. Both wings were sprawled out - feathers fluffed. Lethargic.

Despite her angry warning peeps (I truly think she believed herself quite intimidating), I stepped closer and pulled a few soon-to-fall flowers from my nearby Canna Lilies. They hold the nectar that the local hummingbirds so love. I dropped the flowers by the bird then backed away.

Backing away is usually what I do when confronted with wildlife. They don't need human interaction and often suffer because of it. But, I knew I made the right choice this time as I watched the tiny creature come to life a few moments later.

Her beak found the lily's nectar almost as quickly as I could take that step back. She devoured it. Then the next. After a few minutes of feeding then rest, she regained her composure and hopped to the third flower I'd left for her. It was just a foot or so away.

My photo was taken just before she hopped to that third flower. It's a moment that holds so much power in my mind because it's a moment of giving back to something that gives me joy - even if so fleeting.

I can't imagine my garden without those angry chirps and humming wings. I can't imagine myself backing away and leaving nature to fend for itself in her case, either. It was a total "two bird with one stone moment" but with turned tables, in that I helped a struggling bird yet also was able to finally snap a photo.

Time passed. I sat nearby for what felt like half an hour. She perked up fully, then flew away.

At least I'll always remember the green of her feathers and the joy that nature brings, all because I was able to help her out while also snapping my first hummingbird photo.

"Magic" doesn't even begin to describe the experience but, a good photo is certainly worth a thousand words otherwise.