location: grant county
season: spring
backstory: i have a particular affinity for hummingbirds, or they me, that has surfaced since moving to the high desert.
shortly after arriving here, i took a hike up into the half-bowl crater atop canyon mountain. the bowl floor is an interesting sheltered cove at 7,000', flat, sandy, large fir trees and meandering waterways. from the bowl i saw a possible route up and around the half-circle ridge and took off. halfway around, now at 7900', i paused to rest on a 3" ledge, fingers and toes gripping tightly, hugging the sheer rock face in front of me. as i contemplated the reality that i couldn't go back the way i'd come, and going forward didn't seem very promising, i heard a tremendous buzzing directly behind my head. i couldn't turn to see it and it took a few moment to remember i was wearing a bright red backpack. a hummingbird had zeroed in on me from a very long ways away.
since then, almost every time i hike at elevation, spring through fall, one or several hummers will come to say hi, often hovering at eye level, carefully evaluating if there is anything interesting to eat associated with this bright color. and then, zoom, off they go covering several miles in moments, something that would take me most of a day to accomplish.
they never stay long enough for me to even reach my camera, and don't seem inclined to pose or wait around for this slow-moving creature.
this shot is from my backyard garden. several varieties find their way here in spring for the flowering plants.
i like this photo as we rarely see hummers at rest. here, we can see intricate detail of this tiny bird, especially as the print is more than 4 times life size. while this one doesn't have the fluorescent neon colors of it's flashier cousins, the dawn morning light reflected off it's simple green is exquisite.
even one of nature's fastest creatures pauses for a moment to rest every once in awhile.