Well, it’s really not a hummingbird “farm.” What is the word, a pod of hummingbirds? A pride? A gaggle I think.
Near the waterfalls of the Poas Volcano here in Costa Rica, there was a cool area that had a few hundred hummingbirds. They were not kept inside an aviary, but they were just flying around free. Nearly two dozen hummingbird feeders crowded the area, so I figured that word just got around the rainforest that this was a sweet place to hang out.
There were all sorts of weathered-looking American naturalists milling about with cameras larger than the Hubble. They could be seen jumping out from behind ferns in their flopsy khaki hats saying things like, “Oh my God, that is a purple-throated worble-meister,” and “I think that is the blue-tongued channa hummer — NO! It is the blue-tongued worble chunnle!”
I have no idea what kind of hummingbirds they were, but they were definitely pretty. I’m not one of those people that takes pride in being able to identify obscure species of animals. I’m great at identifying rocks from back when I used to have a double-major in Geophysics, but I don’t go around telling people what kinds of rocks they are admiring.
In that, I think there are two kinds of people in the world and their attitude towards self-education. Some people learn things so they can say smart things and impress other people; others like to learn to impress themselves. I’d like to think I’m the latter. Ooops, hold on, there is a guy over there admiring the granite counter – I think I better go tell him that the tiny black spots in the granite are actually radioactive. Oh look, there is a red-throated super floofer…I wish those naturalists would just shut up and go hug another tree and stop ruining my bird watching experience.
I’m also proud that my pictures with my tiny little digital camera probably came out better than the pictures from their 50 pound cameras. Thus, I continue my quest to annoy self-important naturalists.