JOY ALONG THE WAY: TWILIGHT DANCE OF HUMMINGBIRDS NOW SHOWIING

This is a great time of the year to observe and admire the hummingbirds. They're on their way south but stay around here long enough so that we can marvel at their swift flight, their ability to hover over the feeders, their sipping of the nectar -- and fighting for their place at the invigorating fountains.

Doris and Bob, next door, have two feeders and lots of pretty flowers, a sort of fairyland setting. "Want to come and watch them?" Doris asked one recent afterglow-of-sunset-and-before-dusk hour. "I'll be right there," I said.

It was an evening of delight. The little fairy-like birds darted from every direction to have their time at the supper table. Some sat still on a perch for a long time, sipping their fill until two or three others, thinking hogging the trough was going on, dived in to remedy things.

Most of the tiny birds just swallowed and swallowed continuously without throwing their heads back as most birds do to get the liquid down. One did not. I made a mental note of the coloring and conformation of this one and later looked it up in my bird book. It must have been the female of the ruby throat that has to swallow like this. Only the male of that species has the bright red throat. This one had all that shape but a white throat.

Sometimes the little fellows flew so close we could hear the hum of their wings, hence their name. And they make a little clicking sound, too, as they circulate around the feeders.

There were several species, judging by the breadth of their tails while hovering, but with the growing dusk it was hard to make them out except for the male ruby throat and the aforementioned white-breasted one.

They didn't seem to mind our presence at all, nor our vocal exclamations over their acrobatics.

I've learned from the bird book that different species have definite flight patterns. Some fly in a formation resembling the form of a fish hook, some in a straight line, others in scallops, still others in an elliptical pattern. They move so fast I don't see how anyone could detect their flying traits. If two of them, flying in a straight line toward each other should meet, I think there would be a mess of little feathers fluttering toward the ground (fodder for my Styrofoam feather ball?).

Like other birds, the male hummingbirds are the most colorful. And that's what we like to see in our birds. There's not much difference in the sparrows, though, nor the big black grackles or crows. Maybe that is why we don't give them a lot of attention.

Sitting there in the cool of the evening, with sweet perfume of the blossoming autumn clematis in the air and all this unbelievable aerial display going on, I mentally supplied my own music, the ever-recurring theme being, "Flight of the Bumblebee."

As darkness approached, the tree-located insects began to put sound in the air which seemed to call for a curtain drop, but it was a most engaging interlude. Such happy little moments one must embrace and place a copy on the mind.

REJOICE!

~Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.