Wasn’t it just two days ago that I showed pictures of the (finally!) barren tree in our back yard, noting,
“The winds have taken the leaves and the tree is pretty much stripped now. Just in time! Next week it will be March and we’ll need to start seeing those spring buds come out. I hope that sap didn’t get too comfortable down in the roots.”
I was out there today and noticed this, NONE of which was there forty-eight hours earlier.
Honestly, a week ago I wouldn’t have thought that this tree shed its leaves in the fall or winter at all.
Even with the nasty winds we’ve had on far too many days this winter, while a few leaves would fall, overall it was fully enfoliated. (My computer says “enfoliated” isn’t a word – it has to be a word, I just typed it twice in this paragraph! Stupid computer.)
Then, overnight it seemed, 99% of the leaves were on the ground. Prompting Tuesday’s pictures and my snarky comment.
This afternoon the tips of the branches on a good chunk of the tree are exploding with the 2022 model of Leaves-A-Go-Go! Don’t stand too close! You could lose an eye if one of these suckers pops out at Mach 3!
I can only believe that my tree is, in fact, reading this website and taking my advice. It’s the only logical explanation !
But that wasn’t why I was out in the backyard with a camera…
I’ve been working on several “deadline from Hell” projects and needed a break. I had gone into the kitchen and saw three or four hummingbirds flitting around the fruit trees and the feeders, so I grabbed my camera and went out.
The instant I went out, still 20-25 feet from them, they all bailed. I could hear them up in the pine trees at the back of the yard, clicking that weird little electronic-sounding chirp of theirs, but they wouldn’t come out.
Eventually I noticed the new buds on the tree and went to document it. Now that I was otherwise occupied, the hummers started coming back out, flying overhead near the field of view where I was looking up into the tree. But the second I started to shift the camera over to them… “Warp Factor Eight, Mr. Sulu!! Get us out of here!” And they’re gone again.
They came back over by the feeders, which by now are 40-45 feet away because I’m over by the big tree. Every time I took a step in that direction, they flew away like little emerald, iridescent UFOs.
Again they were back, but every time I started to raise the camera, they teleported away to Planet Hummingbird.
I said, “Screw it!” (Close enough…) I have deadlines, I had gotten some sun and air, I was going to go back in. I got back to the porch, walking right next to one of the feeders, when…
One of the little monsters flew up to the other feeder, over by the fruit trees, about eight feet away. I froze, verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry carefully and slowly started to raise the camera…
And the little asshole flew over and started sucking out of the feeder six inches from my head. I could have (in theory, at least) reached out and grabbed him, BUT MY CAMERA IS USELESS BECAUSE I CAN’T FOCUS A TELEPHOTO LENS THAT CLOSE!!!
They were toying with me. I hope they had fun.
They were teasing me. Little assholes!