A Hummingbird Nest? -- Part III

First thing in the morning, I went down to the hummingbird spot to see what I could see. Nothing. Nada. Nichts. Niente. Had I dreamt the whole thing?

Then, on an impulse, I took two steps towards the tree where I thought I saw it on a nest two days ago. Almost instantly, the hummingbird popped up in front of me and buzzed so close I could hear the hum of the wings. It then perched on a nearby bare branch eyeing me anxiously, took off again and, after circling around me at least twice, proceeded to repeat the whole routine. Gingerly, I stepped back to try and see where it went but it just vanished. Disappeared. Again, I took two steps forward and again Ms Hummer reappeared, perched almost in my face, circled around me and buzzed me two or three times. Still I couldn't see where she came from or where she went. I turned away and resumed my usual walk: to the pond, around the marsh, through the woods and the old right-of-way, eventually circling back onto the property and back to the pond and the hummingbird hostel. Once again, I took those two steps forward and once again she reappeared and went through her routine, with the obvious intent to chase me away or, at any rate, to distract me. Suddenly it hit me. I was standing right under the nest!!!

I looked up and there on a low branch of a Red Cedar just a few steps in front and a few feet above was the tiny hummingbird cradle -- the smallest nest in Eastern North America; it was completely covered in lichen and incredibly well camouflaged, a mere bump on an obscure branch of a bedraggled-looking Red Cedar. No one at home at the moment. But unmistakably the work of the hummer. She invariable sat tight until the very last moment when I appeared almost directly underneath. I was no longer a mere distant observer but had become a direct threat.

The nest is only a few steps from the path and the pond. While the human traffic on this path is not exceptional, we have been sauntering by that nest every day without seeing anything except the occasional glimpse of a hummingbird flit!

I backed off and ran down the path to fetch Lorna. By the time we were back, the nest was a tad easier to find because we approached it ever so slowly and could see that the bird was sitting neatly on it, with only head and tail exposed. Late nesting is probably desirable; not only are there are more insects and flowers for her to feed on (and for her to feed her young) but also the warm weather permits her to leave the nest for longer periods without risk that the eggs or chicks will get cold.

It occurs to me that what I saw on Wednesday was an intentional attempt by the bird to mislead me into thinking that the lichen-covered oak branch where I saw her sitting was the actual nest site. And yes, I was completely fooled. I wonder if this behavior has been reported in the literature; it was an amazing performance and I don't think my explanation is outside the realm of possibility.

Eric Salzman