Hanging off a branch directly over my back porch is a hummingbird feeder. Sprout has been fascinated by the hummingbirds since we got here, and as soon as it was warm enough, she had to have one up. I forget to fill the stupid thing all the time, and days go by before I realize we’re not seeing the tiny little birds because they have no food.
When I do keep it filled though, we get a couple regulars. Tiny little puffballs of aggression, fighting over spots at the feeder. I put a second one up, hoping it would keep them from fighting, but nope, they maneuver like Apache helicopters, rushing each other and chasing each other off. It’s warfare, on a little size, conducted by the smallest birds I’ve ever seen.
He hangs out with us the most. I had always thought this one was dark, and probably a female, but when the sun caught him just right, he sparkles and turns into a redhead. I need to keep the feeder refilled, and see if I can lure him back, and this time, get a couple truly good pictures of him.