Anna, The Hummingbird

At 76 I garden and was weeding around a peach tree when I saw it . . . Hummingbird nest . . . then said, “Beautiful and it looks complete. I’d better stop now and keep my nose out until she lays.”

I watched several Anna’s males fight over territory then the display diving-dance they do for courtship. Three weeks later there were two white, Tic-Tac sized eggs. During the 16 day incubation I checked several times each day inching closer each time. At first she’d leave and I’d move away until she returned.

The day they hatched I watched from two feet away. The mother jumped up on the nest edge, I thought she was leaving, but she cocked her head, looking down and I saw the crack in one egg. She jumped back down brooding then up again repeating it until both hatched.

It was an incredible sight watching those two fuzzy, wet little worms wiggle out of the eggs. My knees were killing me after 2 1/2 hours, but I was euphoric witnessing it. The next morning when I checked she didn’t leave when I approached, but left fifteen minutes later, returning in ten to feed the chicks then brooding them.

Over the twenty days of nesting I watched them develop then try their wings with only three rescues. By day 24 they both perched on my hand. They stayed two extra weeks and had mother perching before they left.

It’s been four years and I’ve protected the nest from predators and helped with eleven clutches. Anna sits my shoulder now making sounds when I talk to her and licks my ear. That’s weird, but I love it. I looked it up and they live nine years.

I’ll be lonely again when she’s gone.

I’m hoping a chick will stay.