May arrived like a moody teenager, one minute shivering under dark, gloomy clouds and the next waving to clear, blue skies. I hummed optimistically as I hung the hummingbird feeders, and then my soul soared with the arrival of the first male hummer. He drank deeply and flashed his ruby throat in greeting and joyful recognition.  I knew the females would arrive a week later as surely as  green leaves emerge from swollen buds.

The stage was set for the tiny acrobats with the master of our backyard always on guard. I enjoyed his companionship as he changed perches, preened and dove at every intruder , and my days were brighter when his loopy arcs created inverted rainbows. The feeder was center stage but the action was an ever-changing palette as the hummers checked the petunias, hovered by the honeysuckle, almost entered the lilies and even checked out my red hat. 

 

 

When temperatures soared the activity at the feeder slowed, but I didn’t wonder where they had gone. I knew their secret—their babies had hatched and needed the rich protein from insects.  

 

 

When they left the nest, it was the peak of hummertime. The master declared a truce and everyone was welcome at the feeder!  

 

Flashes of red and the whir of wings set the scene for awkward landings on the perches. 

All too soon, hummertime is ending.  September is approaching and the males will be gone by Labour Day.  The females and juveniles will feed for another week and then our yard will be quiet.

I will enjoy the colour of fall but my heart will be waiting for the return of hummertime.