But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.” Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds.
Happy Thanksgiving, all! Here’s a little story about food for you on this day of eating and thankfulness.
During the summer, Ian and I noticed hummingbirds floating around our house fairly regularly. It took us a while to figure out that the previous owners had hung hummingbird feeders out, and the birds kept coming back even when the home changed hands. Not wanting to disappoint our avian friends, we got a feeder and put it out back where we can see it from our couch. Occasionally we’d be delighted to catch a glimpse of a hummingbird darting in for a sip.
Fast-forward to the last few days. Temperatures have dipped into the teens and 20s, and I’m happy to have a warm place to stay out of the weather. Earlier this week as I sat in our fluffy chair reading, a darting black shape caught my eye. Sure enough, a hummingbird had come to try to use our feeder — which had frozen solid, like all the other liquids outside. I felt bad. I immediately brought the feeder in, melted it, and hung it back outside. Over the next couple days, I saw more use of that feeder than we’ve had in the entire time before. At least two different birds use it regularly. Wait a few minutes and a hummingbird is sure to come by for a snack. I’ve had to melt the nectar a couple of times, but now the temperatures have gotten close enough to freezing that it’s staying liquid on its own.
Lots of questions come to my mind as I watch the birds feeding: What kind of hummingbirds are they? Don’t hummingbirds migrate?! How can they stay alive in 20°F weather? What are they eating (besides our nectar)? Well, some Internet research suggests that they may be Anna’s hummingbirds, and if so, that answers the migration question, too: apparently Anna’s hummingbirds don’t migrate from the Northwest. I guess they can handle the occasional cold snap, and they must have some kind of winter food. We’ll just keep leaving our feeder out.