Death of a Despot
It’s March 30, 2026 and I’m sitting on my back porch, despite temperatures in the low forties, contemplating a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and an intensely blue blur of Anemone blanda blooming in a nearby garden bed. Our hummingbird feeder, hanging only a few feet away, hums intermittently with visits from the Anna’s Hummingbird, or is it a Rufous? But, something is missing; something is askew. The birds fly in and feed sporadically, displaying a certain sense of nervousness, looking over both shoulders as they feed. Gradually it dawned on me as to what was missing - it’s the villain, the scoundrel, the domineering despot who has ruled my artificial feeders with his (discerning) eye and sharp titanium beak for at least two years. The birds are still nervous while feeding but none have been attacked by any other hummingbirds - so far. Is that dominant alpha male of the last two or three years, the one that terrorized the feeders, dead? Is it perhaps too early to join the Munchkins and join them singing about the passing of the wicked hummingwarlockbird? “Ding-Dong the warlock’s dead, wake up, wake up you sleepy heads. Or, will a new emperor, king, president, dictator, etc. rise from the feathered ashes, with or without a ruby throat?
