FIELD NOTES FROM HONEY HILL
Along Fence Rows & Woodland Paths with Silas Thorne
“Hummingbirds — Tiny Jewels of Summer”
Silas Thorne believes nature always has a story to tell for those willing to slow down and listen.
From hummingbirds and wildflowers to changing seasons, woodland creatures, and quiet mornings along the creek, he invites readers to discover the beauty, wonder, and small surprises waiting just beyond the doorstep.
The first hummingbird of the season appeared beside a patch of Bee Balm.
I heard it before I saw it.
A soft whirring sound drifted across the garden, and a moment later a tiny green shape flashed past me and stopped in midair. For several seconds it hovered perfectly still. Then it darted upward, dropped again, moved sideways, and disappeared among the flowers.
No matter how many summers pass, the first hummingbird still causes me to stop and watch.
Every year I tell myself I won’t be surprised by the first hummingbird.
Every year I am.
No other bird flies quite like a hummingbird. Most birds travel from one place to another, while hummingbirds seem to bounce from here to there, changing direction so quickly that the eye struggles to follow them.
Watching one for very long usually results in a sore neck and a smile.
The little visitor I was watching was a Ruby-throated Hummingbird, the only hummingbird species that spends the summer nesting and raising families here in Honey Hill Country. By the time June is well under way, they have become familiar sights in gardens, along woodland edges, and anywhere flowers are blooming.
Familiar perhaps. But never ordinary.
Sunlight struck the bird as it paused beside a blossom. One moment it appeared dark green. The next it flashed emerald. Then, as it turned again, I caught a glimpse of ruby-red at its throat that seemed to glow like a tiny gemstone.
There is a reason so many people compare hummingbirds to jewels. The comparison feels entirely appropriate, and the flowers seem to agree.
The hummingbird visited blossom after blossom, spending far more time among the flowers than it did near the feeder hanging from the porch.
That is something worth remembering.
Folks often ask how to attract hummingbirds, and feeders certainly do help. But hummingbirds were visiting flowers long before anyone thought to hang a feeder beside a porch.
Native flowers remain some of their favorite destinations. Bee Balm, Columbine, Cardinal Flower, and many other nectar-rich blooms provide both food and shelter throughout the season. Hummingbirds are especially fond of red flowers, which often catch their attention from surprising distances. A garden filled with flowers is often the best hummingbird invitation of all.
That does not mean feeders are unimportant. Quite the opposite. During the heat of summer they can provide valuable supplemental food for these tiny travelers.
Fortunately, hummingbird nectar is remarkably simple to make:
- Four parts water
• One part ordinary white sugar
• No red dyes
• No special ingredients
Simply sugar and water. The birds prefer it that way.
The need for all that nectar becomes easier to understand when one considers the pace at which a hummingbird lives. To survive, a hummingbird may consume nearly half its body weight in nectar each day, supplemented by hundreds of tiny insects that provide protein and other nutrients. During nesting season, insects become especially important as parents work to feed growing youngsters.
Their metabolism is so rapid that they may feed every ten or fifteen minutes throughout the day. Suddenly all that darting, hovering, and rushing from flower to flower begins to make a little more sense.
Considering their size, it is an astonishing achievement.
Keeping feeders clean and changing the nectar regularly becomes increasingly important as temperatures rise, preventing the build-up of mold and harmful bacteria that can grow rapidly during summer heat.
Watching hummingbirds at a feeder can be entertaining, but watching them dart around flowers is often magical. A hummingbird hovering beside a blossom seems less like a bird and more like a living spark.
The rapid movement of a hummingbird’s wings creates that familiar humming sound from which it receives its name. In bright sunlight those wings become nearly invisible, little more than a blur surrounding a jewel-like body suspended in midair.
For all their speed, however, hummingbirds do occasionally slow down. Seeing one perched quietly on a branch is a special treat. After watching them dart through the garden like miniature rockets, one forgets how tiny they truly are. Perched peacefully in the shade, a hummingbird may be no larger than your thumb.
Smaller, perhaps.
I have watched hummingbirds for many years now, and seeing one perched quietly still feels a bit like discovering a secret.
Their nests are even more remarkable. Often little larger than a half-dollar, a hummingbird nest is carefully woven from plant fibers, spider silk, and bits of lichen. Hidden among branches, these tiny nurseries hold some of the smallest eggs found anywhere in the bird world. Every summer, countless people pass beneath trees without realizing one may be resting just overhead.
Nature is full of small wonders. Sometimes we simply need to slow down enough to notice them.
Later in the season, lucky observers may occasionally spot a different hummingbird passing through Honey Hill Country. A Rufous Hummingbird may appear during migration. More rarely, a Black-chinned, Calliope, or even Anna’s Hummingbird might make a brief visit. Such sightings are always exciting.
Still, the Ruby-throated Hummingbird remains the familiar summer companion most of us know best.
And perhaps that is enough.
As I watched the little bird disappear among the flowers, I found myself thinking less about hummingbirds and more about the season itself.
Before long, children will be chasing fireflies across front yards. Gardens will be bursting with flowers. Farmers will be watching the skies for rain. Strawberry patches will give way to tomatoes, sweet corn, and all the bounty of summer.
The hummingbirds will continue their busy visits from blossom to blossom, hardly noticing the season they announce.
But every year, when I hear the first soft whir of wings beside a flower, I find myself thinking the same thing.
Summer has arrived at last.
Pen-and-ink illustrations have been created for this piece with the assistance of AI . . . lovingly prepared and styled for the world of Little Red Bear.
James Milson - The Writing Pages 