More or Less . . .

hummingbirds 2 I know why hummingbirds are the smallest birds–weighing less than a nickel.  A smaller  species’ weight is  under a penny.   It  appears  they rarely eat!  I know, I know–supposedly they eat more than  their weight in nectar daily, but the ones at my feeders and flowers are fighting family more than they are feasting.

Hummingbirds have the highest metabolism rate of any animal other than insects, and therefore, these tiny flying miracles  are continuously hours away from starving to death. They are able to store just enough energy to survive overnight.

So because they are always starving, this species of bird must protect its food sources;  they are constantly on guard for an intruder as they try to get a quick gulp of sweet liquid. Fiercely territorial, competing for food, they have no desire to share with anyone.

This morning was a frightening day of bedlam at the feeder.  Evidently, migration has begun when extra weight is required for the small birds. This is not the time to be nice.  There was ample sweet nectar; plenty of places at the table–but  no bird got near the feeder for hours.  Six tiny birds went at one another like Kawasaki bomber pilots; they soared only to return in savage force to attack an approaching  hungry hummer.  I was in the cross fire trying to bring calmness–it didn’t  work.

Two male Ruby throated hummingbirds collided head-on and landed at my feet.  I couldn’t believe all the pandemonium over food–isn’t it much safer to share?  I guess if you live in a perpetual state of starvation,  you might fight over a morsel.

I wasn’t sure whether to smile at their antics or cry at their selfishness.  All the fighting seemed entirely futile–there was enough sweet nectar for  each one.

Now these beautiful, fun to watch guests in my garden are just made that way.  It is their innate nature to be exclusive, miserly and self-centered;  they can’t help what they do and how they act to protect their food source. .  .

but can I?  What about my disbelief and disobedient foolishness to protect me–to guard mine?

Does my  heavenly Father laugh or cry?

Competition can  keep me from enjoying sweet nectar. How much  would I share if there were ‘just’ enough?   I want to believe that this journey to now is not a journey for more. . .

“Better a dry crust with peace
than a house full of feasting with strife. ” Proverbs 17:1  (Message)

Dare I live contented . . .

(If you click on the picture to enlarge it you can see the “hum” of wings  of both 🙂

About oct17

The little girl in me loves bird watching, butterflies, sunrises, sunsets, walks in the rain; the adult I am enjoys the same. I sense God's awesomeness in all of life--what wonder there is in slicing a leek or cutting open a pomegranate. I have many favorite things--a formation of Canadian geese flying overhead, the giggles of my grand daughters, the first ripe watermelon in summer, snowflakes on my face--these gifts from my heavenly Father delight me continually.
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2 Responses to More or Less . . .

  1. Marsha Weaver says:

    This makes me think of the manna God sent to the Israelites, and they were to only collect what they needed for the day.

  2. Weslea Bell says:

    Thanks for sharing, Barb!

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