It's not supposed to be that way

The photo, below, was taken at about 8:30am, yesterday, October 30, 2019. The sky was overcast and the temperature was 25 degrees Fahrenheit. What is wrong with this scene?

Zooming in on a portion of the scene, below, gives a huge clue.

Yes, that's a male ruby-throated hummingbird sitting on the frozen nectar feeder. Why is the feeder out? Because we get migrants coming through here, normally through the first week of October. In this case, the little guy showed up three or four weeks ago - and stayed.

When we first moved here, I stopped feeding hummingbirds in mid-September. However, the migrating birds were having none of that. I noticed a female ruby-throated hummingbird hovering just outside our glass-sliding doors onto the back porch, beak to glass. It was on the 9th of October, and it was cold and miserable outside. Hurriedly, I boiled up some fresh nectar to put out for her. Whether she availed herself of the nectar, I never knew. That experience caused me to keep a "last feeder" of nectar out for the hummers a bit later - until mid-October.

I don't know what the current hummer's plans are for the winter. Can't you see me replacing the feeder of nectar every hour throughout the winter? This guy has a history of coming to the door to beg - previously, when I've allowed the heat to evaporate the nectar.

At 8:00am, this morning, it's being 18-20 degrees Fahrenheit outside (depending upon the side of the house consulted), I  replaced the frozen feeder with the feeder that I had brought in yesterday morning. He showed up (photo, below).

Yes, we had sleet and snow and freezing rain, yesterday - off-and-on, all day. I was glad that I had used the warmish weather that we had Sunday to winterize the back-flow valve of the lawn irrigation system. The system is scheduled to be drained and blown out next Tuesday or later in next week. Next year, I've decided to ask that the system be serviced for the winter by October 20. I'm tired of the work of winterizing the darned thing - then worrying about it as the temperatures plunge.

Comments

[Liz Hinds]

Gosh, that is one cute little bird. I've never seen a wild hummingbird. A lot of creatures - and plants - seem confused by the climate these days.

[Ingineer66]

Yep winter is early this year. My buddy in Boulder CO texted the other day that it was 1 degree F when he was going to work. He thinks that is a record low for October there. Not sure what to do about the birds. They should be off to warmer climes by now.

[bogie]

I just have to laugh at everyone I know in AZ, KS and TX - we haven't seen snow yet in lower NH [sticking tongue out].

Well, I hope the little guy figures it out because I can't see how he could possibly live thru a winter regardless of how dedicated you are to providing unfrozen nectar. I wonder if he was injured (maybe a pulled wing muscle) and had to stop to heal up before moving on?

[Cop Car]

Liz--While living in New Mexico and California, I saw about five species of hummingbirds, but there are even more species in Texas (I was 3 years old when I lived there, so don't recall) and Arizona (which state has only served me as a route to elsewhere). Here in Kansas, we rarely see anything other than the ruby-throated.

Ingineer--Rather than say that winter came early, this year, I would say that it came suddenly. Our gingko shed its leaves while they were still green because it hadn't time to turn them to gold. Every other year, the leaves have turned to gold, then they all fall down one night. Green leaves are making the raking more rigorous for me!

Bogie--Your cruel streak is showing - lol. Yes, I hope the little guy leaves; but, if/when he does, I'll not know whether that is the case or whether he died. He could be aging, ill, injured. Unlike most of our hummers, he hasn't often hovered while feeding. He's been, as in the photos, sitting on the feeder edge. The little guy seems to come to our feeder only a very few times each day; so, I don't know whether someone else is feeding him or whether he is spending so much time in torpor that he doesn't need more. It's the not knowing that is hard.