You appear at first light, your wings moving rapidly as they keep you hovering above the feeder.   Your  iridescent  feathers  sparkle in the sun, emerald green and onyx black, like jewels.   Your long beak dips into the nectar and you lick up great quantities of the sugar water as you instinctively prepare for your upcoming migration.  Throughout the day you suddenly appear, then vanish as quickly, taking off in a series of maneuvers aerodynamically impossible.  We put down whatever we’re doing to watch you, mesmerized by your uniqueness, your beauty,  and by the fact that you defy reason.  You return to the feeder until darkness forces you to rest.

You came to us three years ago, about one hour after we put out food.  After you arrived we did our utmost to make  you happy.  We planted red flowers nearby, changed your nectar daily, avoided disturbing you as much as possible and gave you as much space as you needed to feel safe.  We eased up on that routine as we got to know you more intimately.  Now, when we barbeque, you zoom right past our heads and go about business of eating, only  three feet  from us.  We have not yet taught you to take sugar from our hand but that is a distinct possibility for the future.  You no longer are spooked by movement inside our house and, though you must be aware  that  we are watching your every move,  you have become quite blase’ about our comings and goings. You are a strong , vicious little fighter and we’ve seen you take on, and defeat, wasps, honeybees and even a blue jay.  We saw your mate briefly last spring, but after he had wooed  you he moved on to new conquests.  Single handedly  you made  your nest, hatched your young and went about the responsibility of feeding them.  Now, these past few weeks you have been preparing for yet another difficult task, the long exhausting journey to Mexico.

Not only are you a bird, albeit an exceptional bird, you do not know just how miraculous you are; how you accomplish the impossible, beat all the odds and defy common sense.  Let me tell you some things about yourself which make  you so special….under those beautiful feathers your naked body is about the size of a bumblebee’s and  you weigh only three grams.  Your tiny heart, miniature though it may be, beats 1,260 times per minute and represents 2.4 of your body weight.  Your eggs, usually only two, are half the size of a jellybean.  Your young hatch knowing how to fly, so they, too, are remarkable.

Perhaps the most amazing  fact about you is that  you can fly non-stop 500 miles across the Gulf of Mexico, and you do it twice a year.  Before  you leave the southern coast you pig-out until you’ve increased your body weight by 50 percent, at which time it’s “hasta  la vista, Mexico,  here I come.”

You may or may not meet up with your ex down there, and since we have not seen your babies for a long while they, too, may have already left the mainland and might be waiting for you.  A hummingbird lives anywhere from 3 to 12 years, so, since we have known you already for three we want you to stay healthy and take good care of yourself.  Whatever you do, DON’T DRINK THE WATER.  Since you will not be hatching a family while there you’ll have plenty of time to just rest and enjoy the scenery.

We have not seen  you now for two days and the wind has shifted and there has been no rain.  Did you fly off early one morning as we slept?  We’ll leave  your food out for a day or two more just in case you haven’t gone.  If you have  indeed left us our thoughts and prayers will be with you.  God Speed little hummer, and may the wind be always at your back.