The Humming of Tiny Wings

Acaime Reserve, a place bordering on magical in its beauty, is intended primarily to protect one thing, its numerous hummingbirds. At any given time of year, the reserve provides haven for six to eight hummingbird species. For a small donation (roughly $1.50), we received hot chocolate and a chunk of cheese to enjoy as the tiny birds darted around us. Eaten in local fashion, dropping the cheese into the chocolate, this was a surprisingly delicious treat. (We have found that cheese pops up in the most bizarrely delicious ways in Colombian foods.)

I find hummingbirds, much like geckos, to be endlessly fascinating in their specialized engineering. The speed at which their wings move is an unparalleled aerodynamic feat. This movement allows them to move in all directions, including backwards, a talent unique among birds. Incredibly long, narrow beaks, in conjunction with ultrathin tongues, allow them to feed from flowers (and plastic feeders of sugar water) inaccessible to other creatures. Hummingbirds are, hands down, an evolutionary marvel.

We have hummingbirds in New Mexico, as with much of the U.S., but there is something surreal about being in the presence of dozens of them all at once. They dipped and dove around us, whirring past on their way from flower to feeder, feeder to branch. Green and orange, black and white, iridescent blues, pausing briefly to drink one second, they darted away the next. Beautiful and majestic; they were worth the five-hour roundtrip hike.