James Etheridge

Earlier this week, we were having our morning coffee in the sunroom. I walked into the kitchen to rinse my cup and noticed perched on the hummingbird feeder hanging outside the window was a tiny hummer that appeared to be dead. Its feet were on the perch, its beak in the feeder, its eyes closed, its body motionless and its feathers ruffled. I looked at the little bird for a second and then walked back out into the sunroom. “You’re not going to believe this,” I said to Jackie, “but there’s a dead hummingbird on the feeder.”
“A what?”
“A dead hummingbird. Take a look.”
She jumped up and walked to the glass door. “Where is it?” she asked.
“On the opposite side feeding port.”
She leaned over and saw the motionless little bird. “Oh, no,” she said.
“Come on in here and take a look.”
We both walked into the kitchen and stood at the window. “That is so sad. What are you going to do?” Jackie asked. “Well, I guess I’ll have to lower the feeder, get it off and deal with the details,” I said. “Wait a minute,” she said. “It’s not dead! Look, it’s tail feathers are moving!”
“I saw that and I think it may just be the breeze or the air blowing up from the air conditioning unit.”

Just then another hummer flew up from behind, landed on the motionless bird’s back and began to peck it aggressively on the back of the head. “What is that one doing?” said Jackie. “I don’t know,” I replied. “Trying to wake it up, maybe?” Then the bird returned, landed on the motionless one’s back and began to peck it even harder. It was obvious by now that it wasn’t trying to wake the other bird. It was pecking him aggressively with its long beak and trying to move the motionless bird off the feeder. “Hey!” I yelled and we both began to bang on the window. The mean bird paid us not one bit of attention, flew away and then returned and attacked again. “I’ve read that they will fight to the death using their beaks as weapons,” I said. “You know how territorial they are.” Meanie returned and attacked again. Jackie yelled at it and it ignored her. I got two paper towels off of the roll next to the window. “I’ve got to get the feeder down and get it off of there before Meanie pecks it to pieces.”

I went downstairs, out the back door, across the deck and up the steps to the landing coming down from the sunroom. I loosened the rope holding the feeder on the pulley from the cleat on the wall and lowered the feeder onto the rail on the deck. Meanie was buzzing around my head and chirping while the one on the feeder remained motionless. I folder the paper towel around my hand and placed it over the tiny bird. It began to beat its wings and spread its tail. I gently pulled it away from the feeding port and the beak slid right out. I placed the paper towel protecting the little creature on the steps coming down from the sunroom. Suddenly the bird buzzed its wings, rose up into the air, hovered for a second, then flew away and disappeared into the trees. “Well,” I said, “I guess that’s that!” I walked up the steps, tapped on the sunroom door and got Jackie’s attention. I gave her a thumbs up and she walked to the door. “It’s alright,” I told her. “I got it off the feeder, set it on the steps and it flew off into the trees. It obviously wasn’t dead.” “Thank goodness,” she said. I hoisted the feeder back up the pulley, tied the rope off on the cleat and went back upstairs. Jackie was standing in the kitchen. “It flew up, hovered, then flew away,” I said. “And I don’t mean it staggered off a few feet then fell to the ground. It buzzed off up into the tree.” “Good,” she said. “Do you feel better now?” “Yes,” I replied. Yes, I did feel better. I felt a lot better indeed.

All’s well that ends well and I hope the traumatic episode ended well for the little bird stuck on the feeder. The hummers returned, darting about and bickering in their version of aerial combat. I didn’t see the one I had freed, at least as far as I could tell. Perhaps after it was set free its feathers went back into place and it didn’t look so disheveled. I didn’t see Meanie either. I probably wouldn’t have recognized Meanie anyway because the birds move so fast. Meanie is obviously a bully. I just hope Meanie knows about karma.