Listening in on the Hummingbees

Spring and summer mornings, The Wife and I take our coffees outside and sit on the deck overlooking the mostly dry creek across the lawn below. We listen to the morning sounds and watch the hummingbees as they wake up and come zooming in to get their morning sugar fixes at our four HB feeders.

(We hang as many as a dozen of them on various hooks, nails and shepherd's crooks on the edge of the deck roof and around the railing — depending on how the winter treated the little critters on their 2,000-mile spring migration, what our local weather has been, or the cost of sugar.)

Sometimes, the hummingbees straggle in a few at a time, as if they just woke up and need a teeny cup of coffee to get started. More often, though, they come roaring in like a couple squadrons of tiny attack helicopters all trying to refuel at once.

Then after the initial chaos, the traffic settles down and fewer come to feed. This flight is less like a military operation and more like a bevy of fluttering feathered housewives rushing a supermarket during Twenty-Percent Tuesday. Chatting, gossiping, more interested in the socializing than the shopping.

This morning, I caught myself wishing I had a hummingbird translator so I could listen in on their twittering and chirping. My imagination took flight (excuse the word play).

"Hi, Helen! What *cheep* are you up to *chirp* today?"

"Hi, Hope! Just *tweet* looking for some diapers, size teeny tiny miniscule. Hoger's doesn't carry them *twitter* anymore."

"I know, right? *tweet* Ever since the Bird Flu Pan*chirp*demic, it's been hard to find them. Have you *twitter* tried J.C. Henney's? *tweet*

"No, I'll make that my next stop. *twitter* Say, did you *cheep* hear *chirp* about Haley? Her eldest hasn't re*tweet*turned from Panama yet."

"Oh, my! *chirp* I hope he's not stuck *cheep* down *tweet* in Nic*twitter*aragua in that horrid *tweet*tweet*twitter* sparrow caravan coming this *chirp* way!"

"That'd be *tweet* just terrible! What'll *chirp* Hester and her *cheep*cheep* little chicks, Hank, *tweet* Heidi, Howard and Holly do?" *cheep*tweet*twitter*

"I don't know, *chirp* they'e so messy! Have you "twitter" ever seen her *tweet* nest? *cheep*

"Noooo! *tweet* Well, gotta fly!" *cheep*twitter*chirp*

"Call me!" *chirp*tweet*twitter*cheep*

At least, that's how I imagined it. Could be completely different. Who knows what those bustling bitty bundles of hustle are thinking.

"Jeez, low again! *chirp* I wish those giant sluggish lumps'd *cheep*chirp*twitter* move a little faster and *tweet*chirp* keep these feeders full*tweet*er. Don't they know *chirp* we need to eat *twitter*tweet* every 15 minutes?" *chirp*tweet*twitter*cheep*

"If he doesn't step it up, I'm gonna stick my *chirp* beak in his ear!

"By the way, it's 'hummingBIRDS,' not 'bees!'" *grumble*TWEET!*

...Or maybe in their heads, they're just dancing....