Seward, Alaska
Sunrise 9:22 am, sunset 4:09 pm for a total day length of 6 hours and 46 minutes. Tomorrow will be 3 minutes and 52 seconds shorter. Civil twilight start 8:30 am, end 5:02 pm.
The temperature hovered around 17 most of the night until 9 am then gradually rose to around 22 for the afternoon. Resurrection Bay steamed for the first time this winter as the warmer ocean released heat to the frigid air. Fortunately, the north wind mellowed out to 4-5 mph with gusts to 13.
And the ANNA’S HUMMINGBIRD zipped over to my heated feeder at 9:30 am, raring to go.
Todd Eskelin, Kenai National Wildlife Refuge biologist and hummingbird bander extraordinaire, arrived around noon after driving 94 miles from Soldotna in hopes of banding the tiny explorer.
In a short time, he set up his banding station on the tailgate of his truck and then secured his custom ¼” wire mesh cage close to the original feeder site with my unplugged heated feeder hung inside.
The Pledge-oiled sliding door was held open with fishing line on a reel leading to our watching station 20 feet away. The trap was set. We didn’t know if it would be a fruitless 4-hour vigil or a success, but the time passed quickly. Fortunately, though it was chilly, it did not snow and the wind was calm.
A few Red-breasted Nuthatches and Chestnut-backed Chickadees trickled into the adjacent seed and suet feeders, but no hummer. Eight Robins flew overhead; Pine Grosbeaks sang from treetops and a Bald Eagle screeched, but no hummer.
After watching for about an hour, a flicker of green appeared, checking out this suspicious-looking contraption with his familiar feeder inside. The instant he finally went in, Todd slackened the fishing line and the door slid shut in the nick of time. That was one fast hummer!
Todd carefully climbed the stepladder and expertly caught the frenzied flier in his hand. He gently popped the suddenly placid hummer in a mesh bag and carried him over to the tailgate banding station and scale.
Imagine how light a nickel is, only 5 grams. This immature male weighed a speck more: 5.2 grams. Todd thought he was slightly underweight but not the lightest of the six he has banded recently.
After carefully transferring the quiet hummer to a soft pouch made from a cut-off pantyhose toe, Todd expertly crimped the impossibly tiny silver band, #U23487, on the toothpick-thin hummer’s right leg. Ta dah! Next was a dab of blue white-out on top of his head for easier spotting. The important data was collected and now, a scant 5 minutes after capture, it was release time.
I was allowed to lightly touch the breast and feel the sharp keel bone not cushioned by fat. Then Todd laid the living jewel on my outstretched palm. He felt surprisingly warm on this cold day. His heart beat so fast, it was more of a hum than a beat. There he rested. And rested.
I don’t know how long he would have stayed; I would have gladly cradled him forever. Todd kindly suggested that I give him a little shake. It was time for him to rustle up some spiders, an essential food source for protein.
Apparently, tiny spiders are abundant in the surrounding trees and shrubs but I would starve in a minute with my inability to find any. I jiggled my hand and he shot off into the nearby spruce. Wow. What a thrill!
The Anna’s returned for a sugar hit at 2:00 pm; I was relieved he was not too traumatized by his bizarre encounter with aliens.
Thank you, Todd, for your expertise and effort to further understand the biology of the Anna’s Hummingbird and document their incredible range extension to Alaska. It was a pleasure to share this special encounter with you!
Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter
