This is the last part of a story that started with Honey building a nest in our patio lights, and continued when Daisy and Dandi hatched on my daughter’s birthday. Every story like this has the same ending. I just did not think it would come so fast.
We took a short trip to Sequoia and Kings Canyon while the chicks were still small enough to fit in the nest. We got back late on a Saturday, close to midnight, and before doing anything else we went straight out to check on them. There they were, both of our little cuties, tucked in and sleeping peacefully. We went to bed relieved, telling ourselves there was still plenty of time.
The morning the nest was empty
I woke up early the next morning for work, and out of habit I went to check the nest first thing. Both of them were gone.
My mind went straight to the worst. I woke my wife up, convinced a predator had gotten to them, and the two of us started scanning every bush around the patio. Bilemy. There they were, sitting in two different bushes, perfectly fine.
Wait. Did they just start to fly?
By now my daughter was awake, and finding out became her whole mission for the day. Sure enough, she caught them at it: Daisy and Dandi, lifting off one branch and landing on another.
Learning the routine
Over the next few days a pattern settled in. They would practice a few short flights, rest in a bush for a while, then make their way back to the nest, where Honey would come and feed them. After a break they would do it all over again. As dusk fell, they returned to the nest to sleep for the night.
Every day the flights got longer and braver. Every day they spent a little less time in the nest. Soon they stopped sleeping in the cup altogether and started roosting on the Christmas lights instead. Had they already outgrown the nest that built them? My daughter thought so.
They are gone
And then one morning, they were nowhere to be found.
No chicks in the nest, no chicks on the lights, no chicks in the bushes. Just the empty little cup still wedged in the string of lights, and the quiet that came with it.
We tell ourselves they will come back to visit once in a while. At least that is what I told my daughter to believe, and maybe I need to believe it too. The heart feels heavy. But that is the design of nature, isn’t it? The whole point of a nest is that one day it empties out.
Fly well, Daisy and Dandi. Thank you for letting us watch.
This closes the three-part Honey story: Meet Honey, Daisy and Dandi, and this one. If a hummingbird ever picks your patio, say yes. A few weeks of worry and wonder is a fair trade, even knowing how it ends.