The King of Hummingbirds

I have always loved Hummingbirds. My grandfather used to put up strawberry-shaped feeders in the front and back of the house every Spring through Fall when all the hummingbirds would migrate into the area for the year. At a friend's house, his mother kept over a dozen feeders on her back patio. The unique thing about the hummingbirds in the area where both my grandfather and my friend lived is that the hummingbirds congregated at the feeders rather than fight each other. The few times I was at my friend's house, I would stand next to the feeders just to watch all the different hummingbirds fly all around me and feed. 

At my grandfather's house, I used to keep the feeder clean and filled with fresh food for them. It was a joy to see them come back year after year.

One year, my grandfather was late getting the feeders out. One Saturday morning as I stood doing dishes at the sink, I suddenly realized I was being watched. I looked up and saw four hummingbirds, one in front that had a bright crown of red and three behind him were painted on their backs in different colors: yellow, red, and green. As soon as they realized I was paying attention, the red headed one buzzed forward, paused, then leaned backwards to where he had started. Then darted to the spot where the feeder was and then back again.

I immediately leaned my head over my shoulder and called out to my grandfather playing solitaire at the dining room table. "The Hummingbirds are hungry. Where are the feeders?"

"Just a minute." He said gruffly, sighing as he left defeated once again by the cards dealt on the table.

When I looked back, the red crown slowly ascended, followed by the other three.

I scrubbed and filled the feeders with fresh made sugar water and my grandfather climbed the sun bleached step ladder to hang up the feeders.

The next morning, I met the red headed hummingbird again. As I walked to Elementary School I heard him call out and immediately stopped to listen. I saw him fly a few feet along the power lines and then perch and I continued on, I realized he was following me and decided to do something crazy.

"Hello King of Hummingbirds!" I called, pausing to enjoy the scent of Daffodils, wet earth, and cold morning air. "It's good to see you. Thank you for coming with me."

His head twitched from side to side before letting out a complex stream of sound. I laughed and squealed in delight. It didn't matter if he understood or not, the king of Hummingbirds was talking back. We continued together to the end of the street, where he turned off back towards the house.

"Good-by King of Hummingbirds!" I waved and bounced most of the rest of the way to school.

Until I left my grandparents' house, the king of hummingbirds would always follow me to the end of the road.  When I left, I thought I would never see him again, but of course, I didn't know how long Hummingbirds lived.

Apparently, as I learned later, a very long time.

I was around 17, with my first boyfriend sitting underneath the town bridge next to the Native Treatment Center. A set of meandering train tracks dividing the area between where we sat and the stand of trees just inside the treatment center grounds.

I noticed the humming at first, but didn't pay much attention to it as it vibrated softly off the concrete underside of the bridge as we sat and talked. It was the constant darting past us after a few minutes that caught my attention: It was hummingbirds, flying past our knees.

Then I recognized the King as he lowered himself into view on our left and I smiled, leaving my companion behind, completely forgotten.

The King of Hummingbirds was still alive, after all these years. "Hello!" I called softly, realizing with awe that the humming I was hearing was the sound of many hummingbirds, so many they had filled almost two trees. Darting, calling, buzzing, and perching. 

I stared in wonder until the King came up to me as we first met at my grandfather's kitchen window: forward slowly, lean back to start, and then hover. With a chirp, he darted off towards the horizon in the direction of my grandfather's house across town.
The air suddenly erupted in the clattering of thousands of wings as all the other hummingbirds took off simultaneously from the trees disappearing into the afternoon sky after him.

From that day on, if I can. I keep a hummingbird feeder. Hummingbirds from across town have always found their way back to my feeder despite the territoriality of other town hummingbirds. Someday, I hope to meet the new King or Queen of hummingbirds. Maybe someday.