Posted on July 30, 2003 in Creatures
A bulb-shaped hummingbird feeder that we bought last winter brings black-chins to our deck. They squeak like sewing machines. One perches on the cord and drives all comers off though there are four holes and plenty of syrup to eat.
When my cousin Anne was four, she used to call them “hunting birds”. They’re not predators, though. They’re warriors.