As part of my limited housekeeping two days ago, I filled up our hummingbird feeders. We have two feeders out front and one in the back attached to Connor's window. In doing so, I somehow unknowingly touched off hummingbird Armageddon. Our house is now completely surrounded by tiny aggressive missiles of death and destruction, each hell-bent on preventing any of the other hummingbirds from coming near the other feeders. You can actually hear them zooming around outside through the windows-- they sound like tiny chainsaws. At any given moment there's three or four out there pipping at each other and putting on violent aerial games of King of The Hill. Whenever I leave the house, they whirr up and hover in the air two or three feet from my face to determine whether or not I might be trying to eat from their feeders, and if so which eye it would be best to go for first.
Interestingly enough, while they wouldn't hesitate to go for me, they give the bees who also drink from the feeder a wide berth, which I guess shouldn't surprise me too much. I mean, sure they're super aggressive and territorial-- kind of the punt dogs of the avian kingdom-- but they aren't stupid.
The chaos outside has caused pandemonium inside our formally peaceful domain too, as our cats sprint from window to window in a frantic effort to keep tabs on all the delectable little bite-size morsels that keep whizzing around the house. They growl at each other and jocky for prime viewing position. I've had to ban the cats from Connor's room yet again. See that very dirty window? It was clean four days ago. Those are the marks the cats have made by, in Cricket's case, pressing her nose to the window pane and drooling, and in Loki's case, ramming his skull forcefully into the glass repeatedly in the hopes that this time it won't be there and he can actually catch the hummingbirds that are sitting three inches from his face, sticking their tongues out and emitting little squeaky calls of derision. I'd be a little worried that he was giving himself a concussion if I didn't already have evidence that he doesn't really have much in there to rattle around.
At any rate, Connor finds the hummingbirds pretty fascinating, when they'll stay still enough for him to see. They really like the feeder on his window, as it has the attraction of less foot traffic, a handy little perch, and also entertainment in the form of Loki bashing his head against the glass. They've already emptied it out completely once. I highly suggest getting one of these feeders-- it may not work for other birds, but hummingbirds are cheeky little things, and they are so fearless you can sit on a stool (or in Loki's case, crouch three inches away) and they'll ignore you. Lord knows what it's going to be like when the barn swallows get back in town. They nest in our carport and are incredibly territorial. Between them and the hummingbirds, we might have to dig a tunnel to our car. I'll add it to my to-do list.