Tony and the Five Feeders
Tony and the Five Feeders
Status: Original Available
9×12 in watercolor - Purchase Here
Timelapse creation video at the bottom
Tony had a route, and every morning, just as the first warm light slipped over the rooftops, he began his patrol. He was a tiny hummingbird with shimmering green and blue feathers, a sharp eye for trouble, and what he considered a very important responsibility: five neighborhood feeders that he had claimed as his own.
The first feeder hung beneath a quiet porch. The second was near a kitchen window and usually had especially good nectar. The third sat dangerously close to a bush where other hummingbirds liked to hide. The fourth was tucked beneath a crooked mesquite tree. The fifth was in a yard filled with flowers, and lately Tony had begun spending more and more time there.
Maintaining five feeders was no small job. Tony could fly the entire route in only a few minutes, but he rarely completed a patrol without interruption. He would hover in front of one feeder, take a few quick sips, scan the surrounding branches, and then speed away toward the next. His wings beat so quickly that he sounded like a tiny motor moving through the neighborhood.
The other hummingbirds had learned Tony’s routine. They knew that if he was guarding one feeder, he could not possibly be guarding the other four. Tony suspected they watched him from trees and rooftops, patiently waiting for that little flash of green to disappear around the corner. The moment he left, someone would swoop in for a drink.
This irritated Tony enormously.
He would spot an intruder from halfway across the yard and immediately change direction, shooting through the air like a tiny feathered missile. There would be a burst of wings, a few angry chirps, and an impressive chase over a fence or around a tree. Tony almost always won, but by the time he returned, he would suddenly remember that another feeder had been left completely unguarded.
It was exhausting.
Still, the freeloading hummingbirds were not Tony’s greatest enemy. His biggest beef was with the ants.
Tony could chase another hummingbird. He could intimidate a bee. He could patrol a branch and make his presence known. Ants were different. They arrived quietly and in numbers. One morning there might be only a single ant exploring the feeder. By afternoon, an entire procession would be crawling down the hanger and into the nectar.
Nothing offended Tony more than arriving at a feeder expecting a fresh drink and discovering ants floating in the sugar water. A perfectly good batch of nectar could be ruined before the humans replaced it. Tony would hover in front of the feeder, staring at the mess as if sheer disappointment might convince the ants to leave.
It never did.
Lately, all of this patrolling had started to feel like a lot of work for a very small bird.
That was probably why Tony had begun lingering at the fifth feeder.
The fifth feeder was different from the others because it was surrounded by flowers. There were pink blossoms, purple blossoms, bright trumpet-shaped flowers, and tiny blooms tucked beneath layers of green leaves. Tony did not have to depend entirely on the feeder there. He could sip nectar from a flower, dart over to another, catch a tiny insect, and then return to the feeder whenever he felt like it.
There was variety in that yard, and Tony liked variety.
He also liked the places to rest. A slender branch near the flowers had become one of his favorite perches. From there he could sit in the shade, fluff his feathers, and watch bees wander lazily between blossoms. Sometimes the breeze moved through the leaves while Tony simply sat there, doing absolutely nothing.
At first, he felt guilty about it.
There were four other feeders that needed checking.
There were probably intruders drinking from them at that very moment.
There might even be ants.
Yet Tony found himself staying.
He began wondering what would happen if he stopped trying to defend all five feeders. Perhaps he could retire from his enormous territory and keep only this one yard. He would still have a feeder to guard, but he would also have flowers, insects, shade, and several good lookout branches. Instead of spending the entire day racing from one place to another, he might actually have time to enjoy the nectar he worked so hard to protect.
The idea sounded wonderful.
Then Tony began to worry.
What if the flowers did not come back next year? What if the feeder disappeared? What if the humans moved away or forgot to refill it? What if Tony gave up the other four feeders and suddenly discovered that he needed them?
Five feeders were exhausting, but five feeders also felt safe. If one went empty, there were four others. If ants invaded another, Tony could move on. Giving up four of them meant trusting that this one little yard would continue to provide what he needed.
Tony was not sure he was ready for that.
One afternoon, he was sitting on his favorite branch in the flower yard when another hummingbird appeared near the feeder. Tony immediately straightened. His wings began to buzz, and every instinct in his body told him to chase the intruder away.
He launched from the branch and raced toward the other bird.
The visitor disappeared over the fence.
Tony followed for several feet, then suddenly stopped.
He hovered in the warm afternoon air and watched the other hummingbird fly away.
Normally Tony would have chased him halfway across the neighborhood just to make his point. This time, he turned around.
He flew back to the flower yard.
The feeder was still there. The flowers were still blooming. The sunlight was warm on the leaves, and his favorite branch was waiting.
Tony landed and settled his tiny feet around the twig.
Perhaps there would always be another hummingbird trying to sneak a drink. There would certainly always be another ant. There would always be another feeder he could claim and another little piece of territory he could spend his energy protecting.
Tony knew he was capable of defending all five feeders. He had proven that many times.
But sitting among the flowers, he began to wonder whether being capable of something meant he had to keep doing it forever.
Maybe having one feeder would not mean he had less.
Maybe it would mean he finally had time to enjoy what he already had.
Tony had not officially retired yet. Tomorrow morning, he would probably still check on a few of his old feeders. Old habits were difficult to abandon, especially for a hummingbird.
But perhaps he would not rush through the entire route.
Perhaps he would begin his morning in the flower yard, sip from a few blossoms, enjoy the shade, and see how the day unfolded.
For the first time, Tony was beginning to imagine that a smaller territory might actually give him a bigger life.