Birdbrain!

It’s an insult, isn’t it?

It would be if I called you such a name.  The implication would be that your brain is so small you can’t make good decisions, or think through problems, or make plans for the future.

I have a bunch of birdbrains at my house.  No, really.  Birdbrains.  And, they don’t make good decisions or think through problems.  I’m worried for their future.

My sister brought the feeder with her to work one morning. 

“You can find instructions on the internet for making the nectar.”

Nectar.  Really.  That’s what they call it.  I call it sugar water.  In fact, that is all there is to it.  Sugar.  And, water.

But my friend, Jeff, who just passed away last spring, had loved the hummingbirds outside his patio doors.  He even named one of them Grace.  Why he named it that wasn’t really clear to me.

I thought we’d give it a try.  We made up a batch of nectar.  Four parts water, one part sugar—boiled to take out any impurities.  Nothing else.  Sugar water.

Hanging the feeder right outside our front window, we waited for the little hummers to find it.  It took awhile.  But then, one day as I sat reading in my chair, I heard the hum of wings outside, beating three or four thousand times a minute.  It wasn’t quite the hum I had expected—more like a buzzing.  You know, like a really loud bumblebee.  Or, a wasp.

The little critter hovered over the nectar tip, never alighting on the perch, but it did dip its long beak into the hole for a few seconds and then flitted away, disappearing into the landscape.

It took awhile for many of the little birds to find the feeder, but I’ve been sitting in that chair for a lot of hours since that day.  I’m learning about birds’ brains.

Did you know the manufacturer put four nectar tips on the feeder?  Four.  Ostensibly, it’s so you can observe four hummers at a time as they feed docilely, sharing the moment with each other and any onlookers.

They should have saved the money.

Hummingbirds hate—detest—eating beside each other.  I haven’t read that anywhere, but my observations lead me to believe it to be a fact.  At no time has there been a full complement of birds to take advantage of the available feeding tips.  Never.

If two happen to alight, they perhaps will feed for a moment or two.  Perhaps.  That assumes they do not look up from their feeding.  If one of the two ever lifts its eyes to look at the other, the feeding is over.  Over.

Instantly, they fly at each other, not allowing a second’s more drinking of the sugar water.  I’ve seen birds actually fall off the feeder, only to catch themselves in mid-air, flapping their wings to halt their tumble.  Then, either they will fly away in retreat, or they will engage the aggressor in a mock-battle of sorts, with the disgraced loser zooming away and the victor returning to its feeding.

In the last few days, I have seen as many as seven of the little kamikazes zooming in arcs in the vicinity of the feeder, twittering madly.  At times, one will alight, only to sit, its head tilting in all directions, body and mind on high alert to incoming attackers, yet never getting a single drink of the magic elixir.

They don’t eat.  The birdbrains fight about eating. 

They don't eat. The birdbrains fight about eating. Share on X

I am frustrated.  As their provider, I want them to share.  I want them to be fed.  I want them to live in peace.

There is plenty of nectar for every one of them.  Plenty.

There is room at the feeder for them to eat.  Side by side.

Why would they fight when they could eat?

Oh.

I understand why Jeff named the hummingbird Grace.

Finally, I understand.

And, the Teacher looked out over His place, the place He wanted to feed His people and wept as He said the words: How often I have tried to bring you together, as a mother hen who gathers her chicks under her wing.  But, you refused.  (Luke 13:34)

And yet.

Grace.

Perhaps, it’s time for a meal together.

No RSVP needed.

Just come.

Grace.

 

 

How wonderful and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony.

(Psalm 133:1 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.)

 

Harmony makes small things grow.  Lack of it makes great things decay.

(Gaius Sallustius Crispus ~ Roman historian/politician ~ 86 BC-35 BC)

Harmony makes small things grow. Share on X

 

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2018. All Rights Reserved.