Quintessentially Quilly

It must be the sugar-rush. I can’t think of any other reason why a one-and-a-half inch bird would decide to take me on. Of course, as Amoeba said, if the birds had an ounce of brain, there wouldn’t be any room left in the package for bird.

As I said I would — in fact, before I even finished the previous hummingbird post — I hung the feeder back up. The birds weren’t as thrilled with that prospect as you all thought they would be. They’d light on the rail and sit below the bird feeder, near the spot where I’d had it when it was down. It seems they want their free dinner and a chair to sit on, too.

Unfortunately, wind or not, the old hummingbird feeder leaks like a sieve. Neither the birds nor I liked that situation. I went out and bought my little feathered friends a brand new feeder. This one is heavier, so the wind won’t bat it round as much. It also has a larger feeding platform — with perches. We now have a male who has pretty much taken up residence and he’s not up for sharing. In fact, when I went out on the deck to transplant some flowers, he had words with me about invading his space.

Apparently he doesn’t know where his sugar-fix comes from. He actually hoovered over me, dive-boomed my head, and chittered at me. I told him to get a grip and mellow out. He did — about an hour later when I came back inside the house. I saw him flitting around outside the door and cheering. He thinks he won.

I wonder where he’s going to get his sugar rush tomorrow?