The circle of life dictates the survival of all species. It tells us how to choose a mate, where to find safe abodes, how to replenish nutrients, and for some even when to take a trip. But I will ponder these facts at a later moment, for now, I must fly.
I feel the call of a red trumpet. A yearning propels my wings towards the sweet nectar. Drifting closer to the source of the call, I am relieved to find that no others have found it. Polishing off those glorious tubes of nectar will add the much-needed weight
for the annual trek.
The air is growing colder so the time has come to follow the instinctual paths to winter’s warm home. With the hurricane season over, I must hurry along, following coastlines all the way
to the Protected Natural Areas to the south that my mother told me about. Let me hover right here while I lap up the sweetness. Not a drop spilled on my iridescent gorget. Mama was wrong about me always needing a bib.
This will be my first journey so far from the nest. I listened carefully to all of mama’s instructions, from what to eat to how to molt. Mama said, “Julius, I cannot go with you”.
So, my first trek will be made solo. Look over there, I spy some mosquitos. Let me grab them real fast. My body is growing bigger with all this nibbling and lapping. Momentarily satiated, preening time for all this iridescent plumage.
Time for my daily bath but first to the check for mites. Probing through my feathers always fluffs them up. A quick scratch on the neck and head to chase any mites into beak’s reach. Properly preened now, the final step of bathing is to splash in the water.
Admiring himself in the water, Julius saw the bright red gorget and white belly underneath.
Maybe a visit to the bee balms before I settle in for a night’s rest. After lapping up all that sweetness I will have pleasant dreams tonight of the Yucatan peninsula. That Sweetgum branch appears to be safe for the night. Let me grab on tight, then concentrate on controlling my torpor as mama taught me. As the torpor
increased, the bird’s position on the branch shifted until he was hanging upside down like a small bat.
Julius slept soundly through the night. Even the crowing rooster in the early dawn had not roused the tiny bird. He had heeded his mother’s teachings on using torpor. Pangs of hunger eventually roused Julius from the Yucatan dreams.
Julius broke fast with nectar from nearby blazing star grass. He then flew over to the window with the bright red and yellow feeding station. Peering through the glass, Julius could see the lady moving around inside. He was going to miss her and hoped that she would be here when he returned. The quick beats of his wings propelled Julius backward as a good-bye to his human. He headed away from the bird sanctuary that had been his home since hatching.
His mama had given Julius four things to remember. To double his weight before crossing the Gulf. That tailwinds are best for crossing the vast expanse of water. Fewer predators would be around during the night. And to always stay on the flyway.
Heading south, Julius began his trek from North Carolina to Yucatan, following the southern flyway. Along the way, there would be plenty of bee balm and salvia for nectar, and mosquitos, flies, or arthropods for sustenance. He was prepared to battle bees for sweet nectar or use woodpecker holes to find insects.
The first half of the flyway goes through the Okefenokee Swamp before heading to the Everglades. Over the Okefenokee Swamp, Julius noticed people walking on wooden walkways. He was briefly drawn to the vibrant flowers that covered a woman. Following her away from the flyway, Julius searched for fragrant aromas of nectar. But when he smelled none, he returned to the flyway.
Leaving the Okefenokee Swamp, Julius found he had to maneuver through densely populated areas. He remembered the woman and the nectar that she would put out for him. She had one of those transportation vehicles used to follow the pavement. Although, her vehicle was quieter and less intimidating than some of these.
By the time that Julius entered the Everglades, he was quite weary. Being that this was his first migration, he did not have flight strength like the older birds had. Julius spied a logged lying in the water that looked like a good spot to take a moment’s respite in. He made a circling descent towards the log.
Suddenly, the log jumped out of the water. A gaping mouth outlined by sharp pointed teeth snapped closed behind Julius’s narrow escape. He flew to the branches of a spreading cypress tree to count his feathers. Julius had heard of jumping snapping logs but this had been his first encounter with one. He knew he would have to be more careful in the future.
Reaching the tip of the Everglades, Julius found the Flamingo Center. This was the last point of land before the flyway covered the Gulf’s water. Julius found protection for his rest before making the big push of his flight. Fearful of what the water might contain, Julius stayed within the branching range of the local trees.
After a couple of days feeding on the local delights, Julius had doubled his weight and was prepared for the rest of his journey. Following the cues of His circadian rhythm, Julius safely slept most of the day. The little red-throated bird was ready to continue towards the Ria Celestun biosphere reserve, where he would find his winter home.
The sun was setting when Julius woke to the sweet call of a hanging feeder. Hunger urged him to the red and yellow flowers surrounding the base of a clear cylinder. He tested each flower before settling on one to drink from. When another hummer showed an interest in the flowers, Julius chased him away.
The wind was blowing away from the shore as Julius finished up his meal. With heart racing from the meal, it was time to catch the tailwind across the water. Julius beat his wings quickly as if to escape a hawk. He felt the wind on his back, pushing him towards a distant shore.
During Julius’s flight, the sun rose. Looking all around, the only thing that Julius could see was water. Not a tree in sight to perch on. Though the tailwind helped with the journey, Julius was tiring. He briefly dipped towards the water but quickly recovered his altitude lest a fish jump out to nibble him down.
The sun moved across the sky as Julius flew across the water. Julius saw some large fishes breaking the surface of the water. He thought it was amazing how they could move through the water like they did. And some of the fishes seemed to fly, as they jumped over the water.
The moon sparkled off the water as Julius finally made land at Quintana Roo. The long trek to a winter home was almost over. The flight over the water had been informative for Julius. The tailwind had pushed him along the way keeping him safely out of reach of predators reach. Then finally depositing safely into a palm tree on the awaiting shore.
Julius rested the remaining hours of darkness on the palm branch. Hunger was edging in but the weariness in his wings needed to subside before he sought out nourishment. Night sounds comforted Julius as he went to sleep. There had been few sounds while Julius had flown over the water. He went to sleep wondering how fish communicated with each other.
The sun was shining when Julius finally woke up. He found some spiders scurrying along the tree that made a delightful breakfast. During the flight, Julius lost weight as he used the stored reserves for energy. He would find nectar along the way to nourish himself. But Julius had not had a good preening since the Everglades.
Julius carefully went through each of his feathers ensuring that none had been damaged or misplaced during his long flight. The early morning fog had left the feathers damp enough to lay flat, so Julius did not need to find a water source yet. He found it a warm
relief in scratching his neck and head with his small feet.
Rested, fed, and preened, Julius proceeded along his journey to winter’s home. It would take Julius another week before he would arrive in the Biosphere Reserve. While crossing from Quintana Roo to Ria Celestun, Julius found remarkable flowers in all colors. Although the red and orange were his favorite ones.
Large looming trees offered Julius shelter from the creatures far below. He was adapting to his habitat by learning a brand set of survival skills. When Julius arrived at the winter home in Yucatan, he had fully matured. The first migration had been thrilling for
the little bird. Now, he settled into winter’s life. Flitting from flower to flower, lazily preening feathers in the afternoons, and sleeping in late would allow Julius to prepare for the flight back to North Carolina.
Finally, the day came when Julius molted his feathers. Julius was now grown into an adult. And he knew soon he would leave Yucatan.
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