Releasing Magic
I was going to try to hang on to Magic until Sherri got back from a trip on Monday, August 20. But Saturday the 18th dawned bright and clear as a bell, in the 60's, dewy, and Magic was a changed bird. Instead of loafing around and going to the feeder and loafing around some more, he was supercharged. I brought the feeder out around 7 AM and he was so hungry he hung before it, gaping, before he remembered to insert his bill and lap up some nectar.
When his crop was full he commenced circling the ceiling of the tent, something he hadn't done before. He circled like a trapped thing, like a hummingbird that had blundered in and couldn't find its way out.
I couldn't stand it.Why was I keeping this wild bird, who knew all he needed to know to survive?
What was best for him? Keeping him until it was convenient for us, or opening the tent to the wide blue heavens?
I didn't have to call Sherri to know the answer. She'd want me to release him when the time was right. And that time was 10:30 AM, August 18, 2007.
And so I did, zipped the tent open and hung the feeder in the doorway.
It took Magic a little while to get the concept, or perhaps build up the courage to explore. I have to say, it was a pretty nice suite. Kind of Romanesque.
But after noting the clear air just beyond his feeder, he simply zipped out, hung in the air for a moment, poked his bill into a coneflower, and fetched up momentarily in a birch tree. He hooked around the corner of the tent and was gone, just like that. No goodbyes.I hung his feeder up in the birch where I'd last seen him, and dismantled the tent. I watched for him all day long. Finally, at 3:30 and again at 7:10 PM, I saw him at the sugar water feeder by the front door. He was nervous but competent, shouldering his way into the crowd to feed.
I haven't seen him since.
Usually, I get an opportunity to follow my wild babies in the days and weeks after release. But Magic had had enough of me and my tent and sink bath and hose spraying and protein formula. He was ready for the world, and like an arrow shot from a bow, he left.
I know there are enough hummingbird flowers here for him to live on. More than enough.
Can you find him? He's in tall corn.
Godspeed, little ship.Labels: hummingbird release
posted by Julie Zickefoose @ 8:28 PM
19 comments
19 Comments:
Thank you Julie, for doing what you do loveingly, so well, and for letting us watch the Magic over your shoulder.
Godspeed indeed. Thanks Julie. It's nice to know there is just a little more "magic" at Indigo Hills.
Fly happy and be well Magic!
Gosh, I'm surprised you took the tent down right away. I'd have been tempted to leave it up *just in case*.
Thanks for sharing the fun.
Here is my thanks also.
This has been a wonderful read about Magic.
I imagine that blowdrying him was easier than opening that tent door.
Go forth and prosper, Magic!
Was blow-drying easier than opening that tent door? I'd rather blow-dry than release. But Mothers do what they gotta do.
Magic is loving his hummingbird life now - thanks to you and Sherri.
Godspeed, Magic.
Magic should have some wonderful stories to tell the grandkids one day ("when I was barely a half cm. bigger than you are right now, there was this wonderful lady with a tent...")
Awww... I've so enjoyed the story of his rescue and release Julie. I definitely see a children's book in this.
Julie,
Even though I worry about him, he was so ready to leave the nest. The buzzing around the tent was going on for more than a week while he was still here. As for waiting till I got back to release, no, I wanted him free.
I see so many parrots locked forever inside tiny cages and it breaks my heart. All these birds are wild birds somewhere, they were given wings to fly and soar above us.
Magic have a safe and beautiful life, doing what your suppose to be doing...flying free...
What a great feeling for Sherri and you to know that you saved this little hummingbird and he's ready, willing, and able to take on the real world. Good Luck Magic!
Good luck, Magic! And way to go, Julie!
On the one hand, it must be hard to care so closely for such a vulnerable little creature and then have to let it go, not knowing what will become of it. But on the other, it must be just about the most rewarding thing you can do.
I have been reading Magic's story with a lot of interest, and I've been struggling to articulate the questions I want to ask about wild bird rehabilitation. I believe that it is the right thing to do but at the same time I wonder what else it entails. Is there ever a problem of attachment to humans as there is in other kinds of wildlife rehab? Does it matter? Do the birds lose any of their innate abilities or qualities even as they gain this second chance at life?
Dear Sara,
Your questions are well considered but virtually unanswerable in this limited forum. Yes! there are attachment issues and yes, even hummingbirds (Magic excepted) can get attached to their caretakers. The trick in songbird rehabilitation is the "soft release," that gently and very slowly severs the bond between the human mother and baby bird. Just opening the window and bidding them farewell one fine day doesn't work. If it's done right, you see a gradual, mounting wildness taking over the foundling as it learns to survive, become vigilant, and forage on its own. By the time the bird is truly self-sufficient, it is rare for it to allow any contact with the person who once handled it. Even hand-raised birds generally retain a suspicion of strangers; in other words, it's OK for "Mom" to touch them but not anyone else!
I happen to be writing about this topic as pertains to hummingbirds as we speak, and it's going to be a big part of the bird stories I tell in my next book. I find bird rehabilitation endlessly fascinating, because it plumbs the nature of human/bird interactions, and by its very artificiality, stretches the envelope of our understanding of avian psychology.
I trust you were reading the blog in July and August 2006, when I was raising the orphaned phoebes? I told the story of two birds, one who made it, and one who didn't. Some of the same questions about the process were raised, albeit not very politely, in my comments section then. Yes, some orphans do lose vitality and ability in captivity. Raising birds in captivity is an imperfect solution, but it's better than allowing them to die. It's worth doing for me if only for the rare chance to know birds by living with them. Needless to say, adding another healthy, self-sufficient phoebe or hummingbird to the sky is the primary goal, and ultimate reward for this exceptionally difficult and time-consuming act of love.
Hey Julie – I would say that’s a pretty good answer for a limited forum!! Thanks; I appreciate the opportunity to learn here. I agree with you on the relative values of doing nothing and of intervening, not to mention the general importance of keeping as many songbirds alive as possible! I imagine that much of the reward of what you do is in the doing, as difficult and time-consuming as it is. I think that if I were able to do it, the hardest thing would be having to let go not just of the bird but also of the knowledge of what happens to him. Or her. (I was not reading your blog last July, but I do recall the Luther and Avis story from when I was doing reading old posts. I had not read the comments until just now, though. Eek.) Looking forward to reading your deeper thoughts on this when they are ready to be unleashed.
Julie,
You live a charmed life and I feel lucky to be along for the ride.
Julie--I know, I know--you are writing about a wild creature, a lovely bird. But I can't help but anthropomorphize this, and apply it to our children.
I have just "released" my daughter, once again. And your words to Sara resonate: "If it's done right, you see a gradual, mounting wildness taking over the foundling as it learns to survive, become vigilant, and forage on its own."
Of course, there are differences, but the wisdom is the same.
"Raising birds in captivity is an imperfect solution, but it's better than allowing them to die. It's worth doing for me if only for the rare chance to know birds by living with them. Needless to say, adding another healthy, self-sufficient phoebe or hummingbird to the sky is the primary goal, and ultimate reward for this exceptionally difficult and time-consuming act of love."
Julie, that comment from you reminds me a bit of a lovely old story/aphorism which gets told in different forms but runs something like this:
One morning a little boy sees an old man walking along the beach picking up starfish and throwing them back into the sea. The little boy inquires, "what are you doing old man?" to which the reply comes, "these starfish were stranded by the tide on this beach overnight and I'm tossing them back into the water so they don't bake in the sun and die." The little boy looks down the length of the beach and says, "but old man the beach is miles and miles long and there are 1000's of stranded starfish; what possible difference can it make if you throw a few of them back into the ocean?" While tossing another one into the sea, the old man replies simply, "it makes a difference to that one." :-)
Wow.
Gibran came to mind. " . . . For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that
is stable."
Good job. Beautiful writing. Magic.
Thank you so much for allowing me a little peek into such a magical experience!
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