In late afternoon, we sit out back in a quiet place and like the kitties inside sitting in the windows, we watch the birds. Lately, this little fellow has been visiting the last of our tomato plants, we suspect because our tomatoes are friendly with a nearby hardy fuschia that just happens to still be in full bloom. Hummingbirds love fuschias.
Around six o’clock, he swoops onto the same spot on one of the tomato cages about five feet from where we sit to watch the world go by for up to a half hour at a time.
Sometimes he preens, sometimes he goes and drinks from the big fountain and sometimes he shoots off somewhere only to return within a minute, always in the same spot and regardless if we have moved or are talking or whatever. Our meetings have become so regular, we’ve named him “Mikey.” Nothing significant; it just felt right. No clue what he calls us. But here he seems to be thinking up something.