I bought them the little glass globe because I wanted to tempt them to flutter into my garden. I imagined sipping coffee on my patio, waiting for them to hover in for their breakfast, tiny wings flapping. What good is a backyard if it isn’t littered with hummingbirds? No good at all.

So I made red sugar water and hung it outside. Hours later, a tiny bird visits. He loves the red stuff. He tells his friends, and within days we’ve got a wee flock. They’re cute and quick. I begin to get attached. I imagine they are developing a deep sense of gratitude and affection toward me. I consider naming them. Joy was generally zipping around my backyard and my heart, until about 3 hours ago when they tried to murder me.

I go out to check the feeder and see that it’s empty, and then I see him: One tiny bird on a wire giving me the eye, and beeping menacingly at me (they beep, honestly). When I return with more red juice, he’s gone, so I stand on a chair to reach for the feeder, when two hummingbirds zip out of a bush 1.5 feet from my face and try to gouge out my eyes. I scream like a girl, wave my hands spastically, and almost fall off a chair. These birds are saying I should hurry, and I’m gonna pay if I don’t. Even after the refill is done, they zip around me and dart at me, like this is their turf and I should think twice before I steal any of their nasty red slop (which I made for them). Ungrateful little humming ingrates.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 12th, 2008 at 9:59 pm and is filed under From the nation of Indig. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.