Hummingbird Treats

Shortly after we came back from the lighthouse I realized that I hadn’t seen my little hummingbird. Well, not my little pet, the hummingbird -- more as in my little master, the hummingbird. I had heard no morning clicking and nearly a week had gone by without a sighting. But I’m getting ahead of the story. For those who don’t know -- Anna’s Hummingbirds winter over here in the Pacific Northwest, near the water which moderates the lower temperatures. Our other local hummingbird, the Rufus, heads south when conditions start becoming inhospitable. Last summer we had several Anna’s hummingbirds that had frequented our feeder and one apparently decided to winter over at our multiplex bird bistro.

We keep our hummingbird feeders filled throughout the year. One week during early January and another during mid February, we had unseasonably low temperatures. For us unseasonably merely requires that temperatures fall below freezing during the night. The first week night temperatures dipped consistently into the mid twenties. In February the temperatures made it into the mid and high teens and some days didn’t make it above freezing all day (wow!!). During these cold spells the nectar in the feeders would freeze. Every evening I brought in one feeder to keep from freezing. Our normal winter routine has our household up before sunrise, but by nearly 7:00 when the sun was finally coming up; I’d take out the feeder with the warm sugar nectar and exchange it for the frozen one hanging in the tree. “Little guy” Anna proved to be a quick study! After a couple of mornings of sitting on the feeder contemplating cold food in crystal form, and then discovering that a warm breakfast was served shortly thereafter, he developed an expectation. After those couple days I’d come out on the deck in the morning to a series of rapid little clicks and the small hummer bouncing around in the plum tree. I’d mimic “clicking” back in an attempt to say good morning and I’d get a series of clicks in reply. I have no way of knowing if a strict translation would be closer to “hurry up slowpoke!” or “oh thank you, great exalted provider.” The former strikes me as more likely. Usually he would sit on the feeder until I came close and then fly just a few feet away up into the plum tree. After the feeder exchange was made, and I got two or three yards away, he’d swoop right to the feeder and get drinking. I’d hurry back inside where it was warm and join him in a warming drink with a toast of my morning coffee!

While we were at the Lighthouse we left all the bird feeders filled to the brim. The temperatures didn’t drop very low and there was no need for our house sitter to add hummingbird care to her list of animal husbandry. When we came back home, several mornings went by with no sightings of the little guy. I began to get worried. Had he died? Had the cat eaten him? Had he felt neglected and gone into decline? There were no little clicking sounds, no little buzzing noises as he rocketed from tree to tree past my ear. Oh, no, I began to think – something has happened to him. Fortunately, my beginning foray into mourning was transformed into happiness when at the end of the week, at last, there he was, sitting at the feeder and clicking loudly. He hasn’t been around much but now that there are trees blooming all over the neighborhood, perhaps fresh flower fare has more appeal. Happy spring, our hummingbird is just fine!

One Sunday in the middle of my constant hummingbird care, I thought of the verse that talks about how God answers our prayer before we ask. I realized that God looks out for me, in advance of my mornings, just like I looked out for “little guy Anna hummingbird.” I thought about him, made preparations evening and morning, and brought the warm and ready food when the freeze came. God has always met my needs, often before I realized there was even a need. It’s comforting to realize that the Lord actually thinks about me when I’m not thinking about Him. How strange and wonderful. I’m sure my little hummingbird thinks I’m pretty amazing, stepping out of the great tan wood and glass "unknown" to meet his needs. How similar when God, who is so great and so unknowable, steps out of His home and Jesus comes and meets me where I have need. And all my "clicking"? Well, sometimes it’s, ‘thank you, thank you, oh Great and Glorious” but also it’s quite often “Hey, what’s taken so long, where have you been, why am I stuck in this terrible situatio, don't you care about me????” -- when I’ve no idea how dear to His heart I am.