Achieving 30x30: Percentages Matter, We’re All in This Together, and What You Do to Help Counts Big-time

Green space in the Chicago region (credit:  Chicago Wilderness Alliance ) Did you know that back in December, one of the most important planetary environmental agreements in history got approved in Montreal? This would be the “Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework” (GBF), approved by the 15th Conference of Parties to the UN Convention on Biological Diversity, which clearly states the goal of protecting, conserving, and restoring 30% of Earth’s lands and waters by 2030. Not only was another opening created for the concept that non-human species have the right to exist and live their lives according to their kind in appropriate habitats, but indigenous peoples were included and given their due as primary keepers of land. If countries actually follow through on commitments (one of the biggest ifs) there might be a chance that biodiversity could start recovering, and we might have a chance of getting to half-earth by 2050. By providing enough habitat for 80% of species on earth, t

Hummingbird Sightings

A hummingbird is back, right on late-summer schedule, for the third year in a row. So far I’ve only seen a female—it could be that the male has already headed south, which they do slightly earlier. To those who have multiples clustering about their feeders, this might not seem so big. Such a sight, as I have seen at the Indiana Dunes State Park, is indeed impressive. But for me and my next-door neighbor, who maintains the feeders, regular visits from one or two where no hummers had been seen for over twenty years, feels like an accomplishment. It’s a fine thing to see a hummer hovering at the feeder, but even better to see one browsing among the plants you have established just for its benefit. Of course the bees and butterflies don’t object either, so in the long run, what you get is multi-modal pollination. Yet hummers do have preferences: for tubular flowers, mostly red. (For a list, see the Hummingbird Project page above.)

Because of research, family obligations, setting up my new home office, and the semester’s start, the last few weeks have been mostly indoor time for me. (The garden has grown -- out of control and out of bounds, but that’s for another post.) I had noticed the hummer several times, sipping daintily at the feeder, and marked where she flew. She apparently lives in a towering honey locust across the alley. Some people say honey locusts have been overused for landscaping, but I’ve always liked their feathery leaves and dappled shade. A native species, they’re a good pollen and nectar source for native bees, relics of the days when mastodons roamed North America eating the sweet-tasting, leathery seed pods. Today, deer, cattle, rabbits, squirrels and some birds enjoy them.

But to return to the hummingbird. Two days ago I finally got back outside, and, under a lowering sky, started after some thistles and bindweed that had shouldered in among the prairie dropseed, prairie violets and blue-eyed grass. She suddenly materialized at the feeder; though of course she didn’t actually, but I had “got my eyes on,” as mushroom hunters say. There she was. I froze. She hovered. Then it was over to my butterfly bush, down to the licorice agastache right next to me, back over the fence to the feeder, on to some giant blue hyssop, up to an overhead electrical wire for a momentary perch, and then zoom! Up the long, concave arc into the top of the honey locust, where she disappeared.

The experience was so not-mundane that for some reason Tinkerbelle comes to mind at first and I want to get all Victorian and write about magic and how the little bird was fairy-like, feeding upon nectar and living embowered among the fluttering green leaves, her miniature nest constructed of spider webs and lichen a safe retreat from the strife of the outer air—but I’ll restrain myself. Besides, I’ve seen hummers fiercely defend their turf and snap insects while on the wing, not something Cicely Mary Barker's flower fairies would  do—though Peaseblossom or Cowslip might, Shakespeare being darker and less sentimental than many late Victorian writers and illustrators, or Disney. Or one could reference the movie Pan’s Labyrinth, in which stick bugs big as hummingbirds reveal themselves as fairies. But enough fantasy! Truly, observing such a tiny, alien, glittering, flying being, going about her own non-human affairs, opens a small window on one of the other, not entirely safe dimensions of life on earth, if you have your eyes on.

Time returning to its normal flow, I worked contentedly as a sprinkle slowly strengthened to rain. Back inside I went, not much weeding done, satisfied with that hour in the garden.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Dear Adrian, How wonderful to hear from you again!

I should certainly go all 'fairy tale like' if I had a Hummingbird in my garden. I think that they are beautiful and elegant birds and, for me, incredibly exotic. It is so good that they have now returned for three years since this might mean that you are an established part of their routine. Icertainly hope so!!
Hi Edith,

Thanks for visiting. I'm told that once they find a good spot, which they locate by sight (hence red flowers), they do tend to return. Are there hummingbirds in England? I'll have to look it up.
Anonymous said…
So glad to see this post, and found its news and its style totally pleasant. I felt I shared that experience with you. I remember when I got my first slr camera and caught a hummingbird hovering at a feeder. What a thrill!
That feeder was on your grandmother's patio, was red plastic shaped like a flower, and she kept it filled with red sugar water. She had a good number of hummingbird visitors and enjoyed them very much. She lived on Mockingbird Lane, one block over from Hummingbird Lane.
Mom
Thomas Rainer said…
Great to see you back! A lovely post. I've enjoyed a visit fr two hummingbirds outside our kitchen window this week. A cherished event!
Anonymous said…
Nice story, thanks for sharing! There are some great hummingbird stories on the WalkWithWings page on facebook, too.