Michigan summers are a beautiful thing. The sun shines brightly in the sky, melting down just in time let millions of stars sparkle in the deep dark night. Living in a farming community, I get to watch the crops grow. I know that there will indeed be enough potatoes this year for Lays to produce lots of chips (I’m sure this is a relief to millions of humans and dogs everywhere.). Gerber will have peas to feed the babies of the world. The corn is getting tall enough that Atticus is lost in his own private world every time we walk. And there is wheat, oats, beans; my goodness, we have it all.
Nestled in this idyllic setting, is my little farm. I lazily watch the world drift by, sometimes rousing myself to bark at a tractor or other large equipment. The bees buzz happily in Mom’s flowers and the little fledglings are followed around by moms and dads (sometimes entire bird communities) and encourage to take a short flight or two.
Jeez Louise!!! It must be 4:00!!!
The hummingbirds are at the feeders. And so the excitement begins! They are truly gorgeous little birds. Gray, green black and red in color. So very graceful in flight. Lively and lovely.
But they are meaner than a momma grizzly with cubs. Vicious does not come close to describing the behavior of these itty bitty cuties. One hummingbird and his mate control the feeders. And even though Mom made sure the feeders are out of sight of each other, that little guy patrols all the feeders with military precision and aggression.
If another bird dares a sip at any feeder, he dives fast, swooping out of the sky with one thing on his mind. Ram the intruder and knock him off the feeder. He is determined to strike fear in the hearts of all lesser hummingbirds. They cower, each and every one; peeking around corners (ah, so humiliating), hiding in bushes and trees. Their tiny hearts beat wildly in their frightened little breasts. Just a quick drink of sweet nectar to boost their energy, please. What wimpy little birds. Stand up and fight for your rights! You are an embarrassment to your mates and children. Ugh!
Honestly, I’d like to be able to relate to these scaredy cat birds. But I am, of course, The Bamm, aka One Cool Griff. I strike fear into the hearts of others, dogs, cats, and stuffed toys alike. The Bamm demands subservience. I heartily recommend that each animal on the farm show me my due respect at each meeting – for their own good. Be terrified and wimpy if you like, all you lesser humming birds. I personally wouldn’t know, but I believe acknowledging another’s superiority is good for your character.
Oh, uh, Hi Pearle! I was just blogging about you. You know, um, how you got the lions share of the brains and beauty. How you are leader of the pack and no one, least of all me, would consider messing with you. I was telling the world that I must bow low in your presence, allow you to drink first of the fresh water, and choose your place of rest for the day while we all stand obediently at your beck and call.
There she goes-the haughty and hefty Pearlie Blue. WHEW! Am I glad she can’t read a lick! Saved by her illiteracy! Deep inside, I’m beginning to relate to the underdog, be it bird, cat, or canine. I guess it’s easy to use words to convey what I wish my place was in the big picture, but that Pearle is downright scary!
I’ve broken out in a cold sweat- I must go lay low for a bit and regroup. Ah, Pearle’s glare says I must choose a spot not of my liking. I’ll just slink over here and peek at her from around the corner…