At long last, the hummingbird fails in her attempt to elude the lens of the garden paparazzi. She's in and about the garden several times a day, even without any sugar-watered feeders to lure her. She favors the pink-orange agastache (Agastache x 'Desert Sunrise') most of all, but also appreciates the bright red dwarf cannas (Canna x generalis 'President'), and even the ink-blue Pitcher's Sage (Salvia pitcheri). She's gotten so comfortable that I've seen her perch upon the golden hops vine that drapes through the rungs of the arbor like a rope swing, and upon the arch of a swaying kiss-me-over-the-garden-gate. We startled each other one day as I stood up from turning on the hose faucet near the agastache patch to find her not more than two feet away. She zoomed toward and past my ear before disappearing, leaving the faint echo of a whirring helicopter rotor blade.
Brilliant! It is hard to get those critters to sit still, isn't it?
Posted by: Amy Stewart | September 29, 2005 at 01:14 PM
Thank you, Amy! Pure dumb luck is what it was. Now I get to sift through offers from the tabloids...
Posted by: Chan S. | September 30, 2005 at 08:13 AM