Hummingbirds Cause Quite a Buzz at Ohio Park

It was amazing," said Cheryl Rozzo. "I want to cry."

The Youngstown, Ohio, resident had just spent several minutes sitting in Zenlike silence in front of the small visitors center at Ohio's Lake Hope State Park with one arm outstretched, cradling a floral tube filled with sugar water in her hand, hoping to entice ruby-throated hummingbirds to come and feed, up close and personal.

Of the three dozen or so people who showed up for the park's hummingbird-feeding program that day, Rozzo was one of the lucky ones. A thumb-size hummer zoomed down to her feeder and hovered there, dipping its beak into the water inches from her adoring eyes. "You could feel their wings fluttering," she said afterward. "You could see their tongues coming out."

Not everyone was fortunate enough to have shared Rozzo's experience. But I was. Several times over two days, one of the tiny, elusive creatures, which weigh less than a penny, hung motionless in front of me, staring me straight in the eye, as if it were sizing up whether this giant creature was trustworthy. I must have stayed still enough, or done something right, because the bird gently poked its beak into the two-inch tube in my right hand each time. I could feel it slurping the water as I sat statue-still, staring at its jewel-green feathers, gossamer wings and tiny curled-up feet and thrilling at the breeze on my fingers from its rapidly fanning wings.

Usually when you really look forward to something, as I had to this, it can't live up to your expectations. But this was better than I had imagined. I felt sorry for the adults and kids who grew tired of waiting and left before the program was over, clearly lacking the key ingredient for successful hummingbird feeding: patience.

That's really what it takes, said park naturalist Dave Sapienza, who runs the program. It grew out of the park's practice, begun about 15 years ago, of hanging feeders for the seemingly insatiable eaters, which live in the Vinton County, Ohio, park because it's an excellent habitat for nesting and is full of the wildflowers and insects they need for their diet. The birds eat more than their body weight each day because their frenzied flying burns so many calories. If humans had their metabolism, we'd have to eat about 300 pounds of hamburger each day, according to one estimate. One day, one of the naturally curious hummers landed on the plastic feeder while Sapienza was hanging it. After that, he began experimenting with hand-feeding the little creatures.

Since he officially opened the program, it has become so popular that he now runs it five days a week. But anyone can try hand-feeding hummingbirds in his own back yard, Sapienza said. If you already have hummingbirds visiting your feeder, just try standing near it and holding it yourself until they accept your presence, he said. With patience and time, they could literally be eating out of your hand.

Sapienza told us that the birds earned their name for the noise their wings make as they beat in a blur of about 50 times per second. They can also sound like buzzing bees, and they utter little "chitter chitter" sounds as they zip around, claiming their territory and chasing off competitors. As I watched the birds, sometimes three at a time would land at the same multi-bird feeder, even though seven of the red plastic feeders dangled from live oak trees around the gravel front yard of the nature center. Then they proceeded to quarrel with one another. "Keep away! I was here first," one seemed to say in its chitter language. "No, I was first," said another. "Can't we all just get along?" pleaded the third. And they did, agreeing to share the feeder. They even perched on it for nearly a minute instead of just hovering above it like fighter planes refueling in mid-flight.

Ruby-throated hummingbirds are the only hummers that nest east of the Mississippi River, though on rare occasions, a green and orange rufous will wander east en route from its summer home in Canada to its winter oasis in Mexico or Panama. Amazingly, the birds fly 500 miles nonstop over the Gulf of Mexico to their winter homes. Each spring, they return to the United States and Canada, typically to the same place where they were born.

When they fly, they can resemble robotic Air Force mini-drones. They hover. They seem to float for a nanosecond, and then they explode into flight, sometimes in zigzag patterns. They're also the only bird known to be able to fly backward. Watching them, it's easy to imagine how they became the stuff of legend, particularly in Native American cultures. Arizona's Hopis, for instance, carved hummingbird kachina dolls as religious icons.

Even though they've been known for thousands of years, fallacies about hummers persist. First, Sapienza said, they live only in the Western Hemisphere, though some folks think they also live elsewhere. They never, as has been alleged, hitch rides on the backs of geese. And you don't need the color red to lure them. Two years ago, Sapienza learned that firsthand. He used to wrap a red pipe cleaner around each hand-held feeder. One day he ran out, but the birds flocked in equal numbers to both the feeders with the pipe cleaners and the ones without them.

Another myth is that they suck nectar from flowers and feeders. They actually lap it up like dogs, Sapienza said. Their forked tongues protrude from their needle-like beaks and lap roughly a dozen times a second. Females are bulkier than males, but males act more aggressively. Only males flaunt the radiant ruby-red throats, which glow iridescent in the sun but can appear black in the shade. Females sport white throats and white-tipped tails. Both have sparkling emerald-green back feathers.

It was mainly females frolicking at the park when I was there recently. Many males had already fled south, Sapienza said, and the females will follow soon. "I really miss them when they migrate," said park naturalist Teri Downard. "I miss their chatter around the nature center." Nonetheless, the park's hand-feeding program will continue at least through August. Typically more birds stop by the park in July, but this year August has been more bountiful.

And of course, the birds will be back next spring.

If you miss them this year, there's still oodles to do around the park and in the nearby nature-rich Appalachian foothills. Downard leads canoe trips on the park's 120-acre lake. Sometimes she paddles by a beaver's lodge. "You can hear the babies squeaking in it," she said. "They squeak like little puppies."

In nearby Hocking Hills State Park, naturalist Pat Quackenbush tells the geological tale of its sandstone gorges and caves, carved out over the ages by erosion. "This is where northern glaciers meet southern Appalachians," he said. And there are countless trails for hikers and nature explorers.

But right now, not much can compete with the speedy hummingbirds. Even after the two-hour feeding program ended each day, some people hung around, mesmerized by the endless antics of the super-fast birds. If you go, remember that it's best to arrive early or stay late, because the fewer the people, the better your chances of successful hand-feeding. Oh, and don't forget -- bring your best video camera.

Barbara J. Saffir is a freelance writer and reporter in Fairfax.