Aug. 29 - Lisa's Musings (on hummingbirds) and Every Day Life

As a reporter, it's a good bet that I learn something new almost every day. Sometimes it's useful knowledge; other times not so much.

Today, I learned that I probably do not have a future as a nature photographer -- if that "natural" subject has to cooperate for it to work. Trees, flowers, even bees, I can handle them, but hummingbirds, well here's what happened.

After a nice chat with two nature photographers at the Sunday Artisan's Market today, I decided I wanted to shoot some photos of "my" hummingbirds. You know, the ones I provide food to at least twice a week. On my dime. The ones that are always eating and hovering at the new feeder I bought for them this year.

The ones I stand in the living room and watch all the time.

Those hummingbirds.

So, inspired by the professional photographers I met today, I decided to take the camera, a cup of coffee and a book out to the front porch for some quiet time with nature.

I positioned myself at the perfect angle to the feeder to snap away for pretty blog photos. And I waited and I waited and I waited.

Engrossed in my book, one hummer came calling. She took one look at me, hovered for the time it took me to realize there was a hummingbird at the feeder and flew off. Missed opportunity number one.

So, I quietly sat there, camera poised, listening to the birds, and my dogs periodically bark at the deer on the far side of the house that I couldn't see. I'm not even sure how long I sat there, but long enough for my arms to get tired holding the camera in that position. So, I rested it on my legs and listened intently for that distinct hummer fluttering sound.

And voila -- there she was again. But before I could lift up my camera, she was gone.

Missed opportunity No. 2.

So, I waited some more ... long enough to surprise a chipmunk that came around the corner. I'm not sure who was more scared -- the chipper or me because we both jumped.

More waiting. More barking. More bees at the feeder, but no hummers. I was probably out there for two hours.

Since the lovely light I'd had was gone, I gave up and went inside, and as I turned to close the front door, there she was, feeding away.

And I think I detected a hummingbird sneer.