Mighty little things

Pretty in their packaging

Beaks like dueling swords

The first time I got hummingbirds at my feeder I was elated. How adorable, tiny, mysterious, precious– and what’s that? Combatant? Aggressive?

Hey ya’ll. There’s plenty of room for everyone, I tell them. But like the one that once got stuck in my garage, doing the same thing over and over again (banging its head on the ceiling instead of just going out the open door), they just don’t realize. 

Do I always bang my head a little around day 11 or is it just this time around? 

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