There it was, such a tiny nest precariously perched on a
small decorative light cord covered above only with the cross-stitched
sunscreen on a pergola in the back yard.
The tiny darting bird, wings furiously slapping air, is building a crude
but perfectly engineered bed using spider silk and dull green lichen in which to
lay two jelly bean-sized eggs.
Within 3
weeks, little nestlings, their heads with spike-like hair on naked bodies bob
and weave above the rim of the nest with beaks wide open and eyes clamped shut.
The feeding frenzy begins as the mother, an Anna
Hummingbird, spends much of her time looking and foraging for insects and insect
eggs found in local trees and on the ground.
Trip after trip, she makes, as she dutifully feeds her two babies the
nectar and insects which she has ingested, only to regurgitate it deep into
their crops.
They grow quickly, new feathers appear and their beaks
sharpen. And they share the same small
space, moving in unison for a comfortable spot.
The mother continues without hesitation to continue her sole purpose,
and that is the constant feeding of her babies.
Eventually, it is time to leave the nest and face their
world. One at a time they each spend
time flapping their wings, building up the muscles and tendons which will
transform them into darting, hovering, zipping hummingbird.
One is left and for another day she works her wings, practicing hard for the moment of lift off!. After a long period of flapping, she lays down across the nest, pooped. Eventually, she recovers and the next morning, she has left the nest.
