The Hummingbird Came Today. Soon, She’ll Be Gone.
Hummingbird on Feeder, Late August in Massachusetts
Late August in Massachusetts means the hummingbirds are getting ready to leave. If you still have a feeder up, leave it there.
The hummingbird came today, which I know because I saw her. I also tried to photograph her, which is an entirely different undertaking.
If you have ever tried to take a decent hummingbird picture, you know what I mean. They are tiny, ridiculously fast and completely uninterested in waiting while you find them in the camera. I have hundreds of bird pictures. I do not have hundreds of good hummingbird pictures.
I did manage this one at my feeder, and I’ll take it.
What I have noticed lately is that I’m watching the feeder a little differently. It’s late August in Massachusetts, and we’re getting close to the time when the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds that have been around all summer begin disappearing.
Where are they going?
The Ruby-throated Hummingbird is the only hummingbird species we commonly see in Massachusetts. There are occasional rare visitors from other species, but if you have a hummingbird buzzing around your Massachusetts yard in summer, odds are very good this is who you’re looking at.
And these tiny birds are getting ready to go.
Ruby-throated Hummingbirds migrate south for the winter, with most wintering from Mexico into Central America. Some travel from Canada all the way to Costa Rica or beyond.
That seems almost preposterous when you’re looking at one.
The bird in my photograph weighs only a few grams. Her wings can beat about 53 times a second. Somehow this tiny creature that can disappear from my camera frame before I can press the button is perfectly capable of undertaking a migration of hundreds or even thousands of miles.
And she doesn’t need me to tell her when to leave.
Please don’t evict your hummingbirds on Labor Day
There is a persistent idea that we should take hummingbird feeders down in late summer because leaving food available will encourage the birds to stay instead of migrating.
It doesn’t.
Mass Audubon says hummingbirds migrate even when feeders remain available. Migration is genetically programmed, and its timing is most likely triggered by the changing length of the day rather than whether somebody left sugar water hanging in the backyard.
So I’m leaving mine up.
Eventually, of course, the feeder has to come down. Mass Audubon recommends doing that before freezing nights become common because extreme cold can make feeders dangerous for a hummingbird’s bill.
But there is no reason to look at the calendar, see Labor Day and serve your hummingbirds an eviction notice.
The Hummingbird Came Today
Last summer, one of these tiny visitors inspired me to write a song called “The Hummingbird Came Today.” It came from that strange little experience of having something beautiful suddenly appear outside your window, stay just long enough to make you stop what you’re doing, and then vanish.
Now we’re at the other end of summer, and I’m listening to the song a little differently.
THE HUMMINGBIRD CAME TODAY — JOYCE STRONG
The Hummingbird Came Today Verse 1 She came like a whisper, wings in a blur No louder than silence, almost a purr A shimmer of emerald, a flicker of grace She danced through the lilies, then vanished in place Chorus The hummingbird came today, To drink the morning light away So small, so fast, she barely stayed But left a warmth that filled the day She doesn’t linger, doesn’t explain— Just joy in flight, and gone again Verse 2 She defies gravity as she hovers nearby Over the treetops, and higher than high But I still feel her, a flutter, a beat A heartbeat of wonder—she’s nature’s treat Chorus The hummingbird came today, To drink the morning light away So small, so fast, she barely stayed But left a warmth that filled the day She doesn’t linger, doesn’t explain— Just joy in flight, and gone again Bridge Maybe she’s a message, Resilience in the breeze Her strength and her persistence Delivers hope and peace with ease Final Chorus The hummingbird came today, To chase the heavy clouds away So tiny, bright—she lit the gray And left me smiling anyway She doesn’t linger, doesn’t remain— Just joy in flight, and gone again Outro (softly) She came like a whisper… Purring with her wings A tiny gift of love Is the blessing that she brings
There is something about watching birds that makes you notice the seasons without consulting a calendar. The stores can put pumpkins out in August if they want to. The hummingbirds couldn’t care less.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll keep watching the feeder. One day a hummingbird will come, hover for a moment, drink and probably chase another hummingbird away because they are remarkably feisty little creatures for something that weighs about as much as a couple of paper clips.
I won’t know it’s the last one.
That’s the funny part. There probably won’t be a grand farewell. At some point I’ll realize I haven’t seen one that day. Then maybe I won’t see one the next day either. Eventually I’ll know that my hummingbirds have left Massachusetts for another year.
Until then, I’m keeping the feeder full and the camera nearby.
The hummingbird came today. That’s good enough for me.
Photo: Joyce Strong
“The Hummingbird Came Today,” written by Joyce Strong.
Sources
Mass Audubon — Ruby-throated Hummingbirds
Mass Audubon — Massachusetts Breeding Bird Atlas: Ruby-throated Hummingbird
National Audubon Society — Ruby-throated Hummingbird Field Guide