The small peeps of the hummingbird have given way to the eponymous “chick-a-dee-dee-dee” of that small bird. The chickadees will be with us all winter, and if last year was any indication, other birds will crowd the feeder and suet block: cardinals, grackles, woodpeckers, maybe even a bluebird or two.

But I’ll miss the hummingbirds, their aerial displays, the way they dive-bomb each other, claiming all the nectar for their own. I’ll miss seeing their tiny outlines as they perch on the wire of the tomato cage. Who knew they could perch?  They seem the very embodiment of perpetual motion.

Now they’re whirring their way to their winter destination in Central America, propelling their impossibly tiny bodies across the Gulf of Mexico fortified with nectar, insects and what I can only think of as hope.