We’ve discovered that almost no matter where you are, hummingbirds will find a newly hung feeder in a matter of days, if not hours. So when we set up camp in upstate New York just as the fall migration was taking off, we assumed we could count on thirsty visitors before long.
The day after we put up our portable nectar feeder on a lower branch of a maple tree, however, one of the first visitors wasn’t a hummingbird at all. It was a Baltimore Oriole, twice the size and about 10 times the weight of the Ruby-throated Hummingbird common there.
Too large for the tiny perches on the feeder, the oriole at first seemed to wrestle with the contraption to get a foothold. He climbed on the top for a time, then draped himself over the edge and sipped the sweet sauce practically upside down. The feeder swung like a trapeze, tipping this way and that as this bird tried out different tactics. Most intriguing, the hummingbirds that also found their way to our campsite, sat patiently in the nearby branches, waiting for their turn as if they’d been through this before.
Robert Rice, a veteran bird scientist who spent his career with the Smithsonian’s Migratory Bird Center, explained what happens: “They can eat so much fruit, it ferments in their gut and they go wobbly for a while,” Rice said.
It’s a magnificent sight, one I assumed I’d miss this year with our limited mobility. But the other day, wandering through the trees not 50 feet from our home, I noticed what looked like a new arrival. It was the first of a flock of Cedar Waxwings that gradually became an avalanche, all collecting insects as if their lives depended on it.
Pileateds are the largest woodpeckers in North America, more than a foot tall with a wingspan of two feet. They are powerful birds with large claws and sharp beaks. All of those tools came into play as these two battled for the advantage.
