I had been repeatedly and relentlessly taunted for about three weeks. The taunt? “I’ve got Orioles at my hummingbird feeder.” The taunter? My dear, beloved mother. A natural born birder, my mother easily slips into the good-natured but devastating habit of making sure that other birders know what she’s got that they don’t. I give as good as I get in this sort of contest, but that doesn’t make the taunting any less devastating. So I packed my bags and headed to Amherst to see if I could observe this for myself.
It was a rainy Thursday morning and I was on location to start the process of capturing photographs of these birds in action. Sometimes the phrase “on location” means that I’m hunched over in a photography blind for hours waiting for something to happen. In this particular case, I was in my parents’ kitchen drinking coffee and smelling the aroma of blueberry muffins baking. The location itself was pretty nice, but that didn’t make the reality of bird photography any easier.
The birds were happy to come down to the feeders, but there was a kitchen window and a wire screen between my camera and the birds themselves. The screen produced a diffuse glow in early test photos that made them look “romantic.” To get better photos, I opened the window and removed the screen. This changed things enough to make the birds take notice. They wanted to come for nectar, but they were understandably skittish about the change in conditions. All I could do was sit and wait. This was going to be a fairly standard safari after all.
The first to accept the new conditions was a little male ruby-throated hummingbird. So small and so fast, hummingbirds are comfortable with almost anything around a feeder. This little guy was being particularly helpful and I eventually got the “hover” shot I was looking for.
Then my patience paid off.
About an hour into my surveillance, the male Baltimore oriole showed up. He had been approaching the feeder and retreating for over an hour, but eventually, he decided that there was no extreme danger to worry about. I was in the kitchen with all the lights out and I couldn’t make any sudden movements, but eventually, I got the shot I was looking for. Then, with the photo gods smiling upon me, the female oriole arrived and took up almost the identical pose on the feeder.
My final, parting bonus from the gods was the arrival of a female downy woodpecker at the “hummingbird” feeder. She was also interested in the nectar and I can only imagine that she figured out that there was something to eat there by watching the other birds. The catbird never showed up, but the woodpecker was an even more unlikely customer, so I’m not complaining.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 22 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service and Massachusetts State Parks, and currently teaches high school biology and physics. Visit www.speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.