Jocelyn Curry

Espresso in Québec City

The thermometer read 25 degrees when I came downstairs this morning. My first thought was for my chickens, whose water would no doubt be frozen. In quick succession, I thought of the neighbors' cat (I'm feeding her this weekend), and then the hummingbirds. The feeder attached to my studio window would surely have frozen syrup this day, in spite of the sugar content.

I made oatmeal for the chickens, grabbed the neighbors' key so I could go feed their cat (indoor/outdoor kitty), and prepared a watering can of warm water to pour over the hummingbird feeder. As I attended to the needs of the critters, I felt like a suburban farmer. For the fun of it, I picked up my camera so I could document my farm chores and record them for this issue of Over Coffee:

Bess and Vita judiciously pluck the sunflower seeds and raisins out of their plate of warm oatmeal. Cinnamon, at the bottom of the pecking order, kept her distance but did manage to get some, too.

Here, pure white Georgia has scooted through the cat door at hearing me enter her house. She is waiting for me to leave so she can have her morning meal I left for her in the kitchen.

And then, when I returned to my studio to do some computer tasks, I turned to glance at the hummingbird feeder and this is what I saw:

Hummingbirds visit this feeder during January and early February, only. I don't know why they do not come earlier, nor later. Perhaps my feeder thaws in the January sun, and the birds know this. For me, their visits are very dear. Often, I am sitting but a foot away from them, here on the other side of the window, and they seem unaware of my presence. This was taken from across the room, with a telephoto lens. Last night, at dusk, was the first time I saw a hummingbird approach the feeder since I put it up 10 days ago. The news is apparently out!