Two Hummingbirds, Sharing the Feeder

We've been having thunderstorms almost every afternoon. I was working at home and my husband looked up from the online weather map to tell me that today's storm would arrive in about 15 minutes.

I looked up at the window and saw a hummingbird flying around the lilac bush, looking in, practically beckoning me outside. It was like a sign. Or an invitation, perhaps.

So I grabbed my camera and headed out to the yard. It turned out that the big storm arrived much sooner than we expected: in about seven minutes, the sky opened up and dumped rain down on me.

But in the seven minutes I had, what shows I saw! The hummingbirds were visiting. First a ruby throat male. Then a female, a pretty green jewel. And then, goodness, gracious, be still my beating heart, suddenly there were TWO BIRDS SHARING THE FEEDER!

Now, if you do not have hummingbird visitors, you might not understand how rare this moment is. The hummingbirds are very territorial, and they spend their time guarding and defending the feeder, with many squeaks and chirps, and dazzling aerial displays as they chase each other away.

But in the few minutes before the storm, apparently, they decided to make friends. At least for long enough for everyone to get fueled up to last through the coming rains.

They sat like this for a few minutes, very peacefully, with me snapping away on the camera, hoping against hope that I got at least one decent shot of such a rare occurrence. (I was lucky; I got about a half-dozen.)

The song to accompany this posting has to include the word Two. And so I'm pulling out an old favorite here. When you are among the latter children in a big family, you pick up the music of the siblings who came before you.

One (or more) of my big sisters must have adored the Grass Roots, because I remember their songs as a happy soundtrack to my growing-up years. Here are the Grass Roots, with Two Divided by Love. (OK, so the birds are divided - or maybe, united - by a feeder, but still. . . . )