When I moved to Lago Atitlán, Guatemala, in September of 2006, it was an overwhelming adventure to begin to learn the neotropical hummingbirds. I had no other birding friends, no idea about the behaviors of the local hummers, and I was armed only with Howell and Webb’s Guide to the Birds of Mexico and Northern Central America, a pair of binoculars, and a good spotting scope and camera for digiscoping. Lago Atitlán is a huge lake, and like any other ecosystem, the bird life varies at different places along the lake.
My first eye-popping hummingbird showed up the day after I arrived. I was staying in a hotel located right on the lake in San Pedro La Laguna, sitting outside with my binoculars next to a flowering hibiscus, and this giant, rufous-colored hummingbird came in for a meal. To me he looked as big as a small sparrow, but there was no question that he was a hummingbird, and with his black sub-terminal band on his tail, there was left little doubt he was a Rufous Sabrewing.
Central American hummingbirds can be altitudinal migrants, so they’ll show up for awhile and then disappear. I’m at approximately 6000 feet in the highlands, and many species prefer lower altitudes where it is warmer, but nonetheless, some have shown up and stayed and others have just breezed through. I can guess when certain species are nesting, but I have never found a hummingbird nest. Guatemala is incredibly enfoliated, so finding birds at all, much less their nests, is much more of a challenge than you can imagine. Birding by ear comes in very handy here, and I can tell some hummingbirds just by the buzz of their wingbeat.
However, there is no doubt in my mind that putting up and carefully maintaining well-spaced hummingbird feeders has brought in and kept more than my fair share of hummingbirds. On October 11, 2007, the migrant Ruby-throated Hummingbirds (the only North American hummingbird who migrates this far south, and perhaps all the way to Panama) found my feeders and sat on them in utter exhaustion. In October and November of 2008 they trickled in. I had one very early adult male who showed up on August 30, 2008, probably on a tailwind from Hurricane Gustav. The rest didn't start showing up until early October. I moved in 2009 farther from the lake and more up in the woods, less than a mile from where I was before. On October 5, my first juvenile showed up, and since then the Ruby-throats have kept coming, first the juveniles, then the males and then the females. I live on a second story; I have six feeders up and one feeder below at ground level, and I have Ruby-throats everywhere. I think there are at least thirty here (October 19, 2009) but they will disperse, and this could be peak season. My moving didn’t seem to upset them too much.
What is interesting is that I lost the White-eared Hummingbird so far, but the Sparkling-tailed Hummingbird showed up on October 19 and was here again on October 20; one single male, but I’m sure more will come. I photo documented this. I have one Magnificent who comes in at dusk and surreptitiously steals some nectar and zooms off. So far no sign of the Blue-tail either. But I’m sure the word is out, and one of the benefits of living in a second story is that I don't have any cats up here; should they dare to come, they get hosed. I change my nectar every other day, and you can’t go outside without seeing a few hummingbirds around, either fighting over the feeders or cautiously drinking. The Slender Sheartail, as always, was my first constituent after I set up shop in my new home.
Normally the Azure-crowns dominate the feeders, chasing everyone else off, and you seldom see different species sharing the same feeder, but this comes to a grinding halt when the Ruby-throats show up, and since they are here for almost seven months of the year, it has some remarkable impacts.
My first observation is that Ruby-throats are so accustomed to feeders, they have led the way in teaching the Central American species to use them. I put up two oriole feeders last July and not a single hummer came near them until the Ruby-throats showed up and went right for them; within days, the local hummingbirds followed suit. There is no question in my mind that birds learn from the behavior of other birds.
Secondly, the Azure-crowns, who are currently greatly outnumbered, have backed off from their territorial dominance, and I am now seeing different species using the same feeders, something I didn’t see before very often. The local hummingbirds seem to have gotten much braver since the fall of the Azure-crowns, and I have White-eared, Slender Sheartails, Magnificent, Sparkling-tailed Woodstars and occasional Blue-tailed Hummingbirds buzzing right in like the Ruby-throats and ignoring the Azure-crowns.
Thirdly, if any of you feel that hummingbirds are stupid, think again, because this photo essay is proof to me of how intelligent, brave, audacious, and absolutely formidable these amazing little creatures are. Rob Cahill graciously loaned me the photos of the Stripe-throated Hermit, who had just left the nest, and the Green Violet-ear. Rob lives near Cobán, Guatemala.
Photo by Rob Cahill
Stripe-throated Hermit — Ermitaño Gorgiestriado (Phaethornis striigularis)
This is one giant hummingbird
Here’s a Rufous Sabrewing slideshow:
Rufous Sabrewing — Colibrí Rojizo Mexicano (Campylopterus rufus)
Regionally endemic, local to this area,
and perhaps our largest hummingbird for this area
Photo by Rob Cahill
Green Violet-ear — Colibrí Verdemar (Colibri thalassinus)
White-eared Hummingbird — Colibrí Orejiblanco
(Hylocharis leucotis)
Male
White-eared Hummingbird — Colibrí Orejiblanco
(Hylocharis leucotis)
Juvenile
This slideshow of an Azure-crowned Hummingbird is a perfect example of what John K. Terres was talking about when he stated:
In their swift, darting flight, sudden aerial stops and starts, and general elusiveness on the wing, hummingbirds not only hover, fly backwards, and shift sideways, but can also fly straight up and down. When hovering, by rotating the shoulder joint (most other birds fly with the “hand” part of the wing — from wrist out) they turn the wings completely over on the backstroke as well as the forestroke, which permits the fore part of the wings to cut the air on the backstroke as well as the forestroke; this checks the tendency to move forward or backward and the bird hangs poised in the air. Hummingbirds are living helicopters.
— John K. Terres, The Audubon Encyclopedia of North American Birds, 1980.
Azure-crowned Hummingbird — Colibrí Coroniazul
(Amazilia cyanocephala)
Listen to his song:
This is his last call of the day; I think he is telling all the other hummingbirds
that the kitchen is closed — no sneaking in for tidbits!
Blue-tailed Hummingbird — Colibrí Colizaul (Amazilia cyanura)
This stunning Hummingbird first appeared on my property in April 2008. He is about the same size as the White-eared Hummingbird, but unlike the White-eared, he is very quiet. It took some time, but he does use the feeders, and I have never seen more than one, so he is my least numerous hummer, although he is a regular. (Of course there could be more than one, but I generally only see one at a time, and this is also true of the Magnificent Hummingbird). If you look at the Los Andes Reserve page you will see another photo of this species. Since April he has made fairly regular appearances and he remains to date (November 2008). When the light catches him, his iridescent colors are so phenomenally beautiful; I almost feel honored to be in his presence.
What is interesting to me is that we are at a much higher altitude here, and this species is more common in the lower altitudes. When the Ruby-throats show up and dethrone the Azure-crowns, I observe most of the Central American species becoming more tenacious at the feeders and less intimidated by the Azure-crowns. Perhaps the valor of the Ruby-throats is contagious. But this is true not only of the Blue-tailed Hummingbird but also of the Magnificent Hummingbird, who now shows much less trepidation and will sit for long periods on the fence, with hardly a nod to the Azure-crowns.
Magnificent Hummingbird — Colibrí Magnifico (Eugenes fulgens)
Listen to his song:
Slender Sheartail — Tijereta Centroamericana (Doricha enicura)
(male)
(immature male)
(juvenile male)
Sparkling-tailed Woodstar — Colibrí de Dupont (Tilmatura dupontii)
(male)
Photographed in Maine by Tony Nazar
Ruby-throated Hummingbird — Colibrí Gorjirrubi (Archilochus colubris)
Male
Ruby-throated Hummingbird — Colibrí Gorjirrubi (Archilochus colubris)
This is a juvenile first-year male hatchling, and you can really see the spots
coming out on his throat. I shot this October 21, 2009
The proof is in the pudding; a male Sparkling-tailed Woodstar shares the feeder
with a White-eared Hummingbird
A forlorn-looking Azure-crown shares the feeder with a Ruby-throated Hummingbird
This photo shows well the size difference between the Central American Azure-crowned Hummingbird and the North American Ruby-throated Hummingbird. What is so amazing is that despite their small size, I have watched the Ruby-throats chase off the much bigger native hummingbirds, including the Magnificent Hummingbird. Of course, what they mostly chase off is each other.
Ruby-throated Hummingbird — Colibrí Gorjirrubi (Archilochus colubris)
This is my Mayan friend, Sonia, releasing a freshly banded Ruby-throated Hummingbird. It was the thrill of a lifetime for her, and I was really taken by how many of my Mayan friends, who had never experienced anything like holding a banded bird, were really fascinated by the whole process. It was such a pleasure to share this with them.
From Bill Hilton, Jr.:
Our most recent online photo essay describes an early November week in San Salvador, during which we were mainly indoors, but had one great day in the field, when we caught the first two Ruby-throated Hummingbirds ever banded in El Salvador. In “This Week at Hilton Pond” we detail the second half of our Neotropical excursion — this time a full six days of catching, banding, and observing ruby-throats on the shores of Lake Atitlán, Guatemala. As you might guess, our results were far more productive; we banded a lot more ruby-throats — including the first one for Guatemala — and caught six other hummingbird species.
To find out how many we banded and to view the installment for November 16–30, 2008, please visit our site. To properly chronicle our observations and accomplishments we’ve included many photos of people, places, plants, and animals, so it may take a moment for the entire page to load. We appreciate your patience in that regard and hope you’ll let us know what you think about the contents of the photo essay.
