Wednesday, February 7, 2001

Hummingbird rare here banded in F'ville

By SALLIE SATTERTHWAITE
SallieS@Juno.com

The ruby-throated hummingbirds so familiar to Sandy Davis had been gone for more than a week when she noticed a bird at the feeder.

The Peachtree City resident grabbed binoculars for a better look. The bird just beyond her patio doors was not a ruby-throat, the only hummingbird native to the Eastern United States, wintering now in Central America and southern Mexico.

Davis' research persuaded her that she almost certainly had a female rufous hummingbird, which breeds on the West Coast from northern California as far north as Seward, Alaska, and winters in Mexico. The rufous is seen more and more frequently in the Southeastern United States in winter, but little is known about how or why.

Soon after Davis spotted her hummer, the weather became unseasonably cold cold enough to freeze and break the plastic feeders hanging under her eaves. So for several weeks she did the only thing she could do, exchanging feeders every few hours to provide the liquid food so desperately needed by the tiny bird.

And the hummer came regularly, from dawn to dusk, leaving only to rest in nearby bushes.

Davis knows that hummingbirds require more than just sugar water to survive, especially in the extreme cold Georgia was experiencing. In summer, they get protein in the tiny bugs and larvae they encounter while dipping into flowers for their nectar. Fearing her little visitor needed to have her diet supplemented, she asked a friend for information, and that's how Nancy Newfield of Louisiana learned about the Fayette County visitor.

Newfield, an amateur ornithologist regarded as one of the country's most knowledgeable hummingbird experts, wrote back, "The bird will certainly be able to find insects and other arthropods during the winter and that should be sufficient to sustain it." She also said she'd notify a regional organization that keeps records of such sightings, the Hummer/Bird Study Group Inc.

Based in Clay, Ala., the nonprofit HBSG studies hummingbirds and other neo-tropical migrant songbirds with the goal of protecting the species. They have documented hummingbird activity in the Southeast for several years, sending volunteers to capture and band the little visitors so that their activity may be tracked.

HBSG banders hold 12 of only about 70 special permits in the world issued by the U.S. Geological Survey's Bird Banding Lab and authorizing banders to trap and band hummingbirds.

Enter Fred Moore.

Moore, of Pelham, Ala., contacted Davis and asked if he could capture her little guest to document its visit, determine for certain its species, and band it for future study. Although she understood the importance of HSBG research and appreciated the opportunity to contribute to the preservation of a species, Davis worried that the bird might be traumatized or scared away from her feeder. She agonized for several days before agreeing to let Moore come to her house.

He arrived early on a recent mild Sunday afternoon, having just banded a calliope hummingbird in Carrollton. With Davis watching anxiously, Moore set up a large cage at the location of the bird's favorite feeder, hung the feeder inside it, and withdrew to the living room to watch.

"She sometimes doesn't come until about 4 o'clock," Davis warned, and Moore settled deeper into his chair. But in less than two minutes the hummingbird was inside the cage, drinking from the feeder. With the click of a remote controller, Moore dropped the cage door and moments later had the bird in his hand.

"She,s nice and fat," he said. "I bet she'll go 3.7 [grams]." Secured in the toe of a pair of pantyhose, the hummer endured about 15 minutes of tests: weight (3.69 grams), length, wingspan and beak. Fanning the bird's tail, Moore pointed out the soft red-brown feathers that confirmed she was indeed a female rufous hummingbird, Selasphorus rufus in ornithologyspeak.

Davis alternated between delight ("To think she's right here in my kitchen!") and anguish, as Moore pulled out three tail feathers for later DNA analysis. He assured Davis that the bird would not be hindered at all by their loss.

By examining the sides of the hummer's needle-like beak, Moore ascertained that she was a fledgling-year bird; that is, she had been hatched only the previous spring. Turning her over, he showed the onlookers gathered in Davis' kitchen the almost invisible gorget feathers that even a female rufous has on her throat, feathers that reflect sunlight like jewels.

The band Moore clinched around the tiny leg looked like a speck of gravel, but examination with a lens would connect this hummer to the intensive documentation about to be added to the ornithologists' data bank.

Giff Beaton of the Georgia Ornithological Society says Davis should look for her little visitor again next year. "A lot of times they'll show up in subsequent years, or several years," he said. GOS records show one other rufous identified and banded in Fayetteville, Jan. 29, 1991. The same bird was captured in Senoia Oct. 14, 1992.

While Beaton said he thought he remembered another rufous in Peachtree City, he was unable to find documentation of it. "We've now had maybe 150 or more" in the Atlanta area, he said.

When Moore concluded his voluminous notes, he photographed the bird, first in his own hand and then in Davis' palm. There she rested immobile but free until Davis made a slight tossing motion. With a chirp that could only be described as indignant, the rufous took to the air and flew to a branch near the back of the yard.

And to Davis' obvious relief, within 15 minutes of the dismantling of Moore's equipment, the rufous was back on a feeder but several feet from the one where she had received what Davis called "rude treatment" earlier.