Last week I was in La Jolla, California, for a meeting. The facility is high on a bluff overlooking the ocean, and landscaped with native plants. One of these, a Salvia, has purple blooms and comes with hummingbirds.
Tuesday, while sitting in the sun eating lunch, I saw a female sitting on a thin cable fence. She had a dark head and brown body, with a green sheen on her back. After a while she flew past me, then before long she came buzzing back and lit on the wire again.
The next day I saw the male sitting atop the purple plant. Black head, green sheen on the back, and bright red throat. There was a gusty breeze that I thought might keep him grounded. As it turned out, I underestimated him.
I watched him for a while, wondering what was so fascinating about hummingbirds. They are so agile - zipping by at high speed, then instantly hovering - seeming to have complete control in the air. They are tiny, but seem fearless, probably because they know we are much too slow and clumsy to pose a threat.
When I turned to walk on, he took off, rose about 10 feet in the air, and hovered, whirring wings clear against the bright sky. After a few seconds, he swooped around, hovered again, seemingly watching me, then flew down and lit atop another Salvia plant.
At the airport on Friday, I had some extra time due to a delayed flight, and enjoyed looking at some intricate Tepehuan "yarn paintings." Several featured hummingbirds, and their role as a bringer of rain.
No comments:
Post a Comment