OMENS IN THE PIÑON

Actually, I had several other titles in mind.

"Invasion of the Beautiful Women from Maryland" was one of them, although our two visitors hardly constituted an hostile horde, no matter how much they made their presence felt. I could have called it "The (Humming)Birds," after Alfred Hitchcock, since the critters were obviously massing for an attack -- you would not believe how many of the things we've had!

My recent report of hummingbird fatalities must have been intercepted and transmitted to avian army HQ, because reinforcements have definitely arrived: rubythroats, rufouses, black-chinneds, and maybe a broadtail or two. They've taken over the frickin' joint, and it isn't safe for man nor beast during daylight hours. Whenever I wade into the swarm to refill a feeder, the little devils literally bounce off my head or hover in my face demanding sugar water, NOW! (It's a good thing they don't carry guns or knives, although I did see one with a sawed-off sewing needle.)

I've been in the habit of making hummingbird food at least twice a day (a minimum of half a gallon) to keep four feeders filled. Well, actually only three: the fourth is guarded by a ferocious rufuous hummingbird who perches on top and chases everyone else away. These may be little birds, but they're vicious! (They remind me of Macworld attendees rushing the poster bins when the exhibition hall opens, har. . .) They even harrassed me recently on a hike. Whenever I stopped to take a rest, one or two would appear out of the surrounding woods to dive-bomb the rainbow-colored Apple logo on my "Think Different" cap!

[What do you think this means? Is Apple going to increase market share by building teeny-tiny little iMacs for hummingbirds? "Silly boy," you say, "hummingbirds don't have money to buy iMacs!" True, but who can say "no" to the nasty little sumbitches?]

I moved one feeder today to what I thought was a fine location just outside a big window by the futon, the better to watch them, you understand. I laid myself down to take a nap, intending to drift off watching the aerobatics, when: "Whap! Whap! Whap!" At least 5 times in as many minutes, careening sugar-crazed birds ricocheted off the glass (not good). I got up and moved the feeder away from the window, thus ending the collisions and bringing a nearby clump of rabbit brush into perfect range as a roosting place. The branches quickly filled with pigged-out hummers, and Hobbes the Wonder Cat promptly ran off with one. (I chased him down and made him give up his prize, but-- you know.)

No, if this keeps up, I'm either going to have to give the cats carte blanche, buy a hummingbird-swatter, or rent one of those vacuum trucks they use to suck prairie dogs right out of their burrows. Sugar is cheap, but my time is valuable. I might have to write a column about Macintoshes, for example, or what Apple is doing wrong. Fortunately, this time I have pretty ladies to talk about. Woo-hoo!

We had company this week, two of our dearest friends from the land of much rain and green grass ("So THAT's where all the water went!"). Merryland, that is. Chris and Diane were persuaded to come keep my poor socially-deprived wife company for a few days and to see what all the fuss over moving to New Mexico was all about. Maybe now that they've arrived safely back home on the Eastern Shore, they can figure it out and tell US, hahaha!

Seriously though, crispy flora and empty streams are enough to give anyone the willies. Let's just say that if the current climate pattern holds for another year or two, you're all going to be able to buy property out here real cheap. People wonder what happened to the ancient Anasazi, but I think I have a pretty good idea: they all hightailed it over to Baltimore so they could grow some damn corn! I mean, come on God, we ask for rain and you send us hummingbirds? Oh, and goddesses in nightgowns, of course.

The funny thing about the picture below is that we had been discussing totem animals the night before, and one of our guests, a very down-to-earth sort of girl not generally given to bruiting such things about, allowed as how she had always thought of herself as having a wolf for a guide. This being New Mexico, when my wife was leading the three of them on an early-morning stroll around the property, what should come walking out of the woods but a wolf!

The beast in question belongs to our neighbor and is quite tame, not to mention old, but he is undeniably and irrefutably wolfy and his appearance could not have been more cleverly stage-mananged by whatever spirits there may be. So, what does THIS mean, besides the fact that we live in a very weird place? Hmmm??

I have no idea, myself. But early Sunday afternoon, when I was here all alone (my wife and our guests having left for the Sunport in Albuquerque), I noticed that the roar of hummingbird activity outside the kitchen window had subsided and went to investigate. That's funny, I thought. And then I saw that they were gone! (Huh?!)

I stepped out back and suddenly stumbled, unable to find a spot to put my foot down: the patio was covered with hummingbirds, all busily sucking away at thousands of tiny little nectar-filled iMac-shaped candies! My God, it was TRUE! I saw the cat come around the corner of the house, stop, and lift his eyes in what I swear was a prayer of thanks. His eyes glowed green with greed even in the bright sunlight as he crouched and gave a murderous little pre-charge butt wiggle. I turned away, unable to watch, and lurched back into the kitchen as the patio exploded in a buzzing blizzard of birds, feathers, and itty-bitty irridescent candy iMacs!

As I stood there gasping, half in shock from the horror of it all, my eyes fell upon the wrinkled, 3/4 empty bag of sugar on the shelf: oh well, I thought, enough for a week of Cheerios. . .

Tomorrow there would be no need to go to the store!

John H. Farr edits the news for Applelinks.com and invites your comments. The Farr Site Archives will take you to the past two years' worth of columns. John also writes his WebFaust column for MacAddict.com and a monthly op-ed page column called "El Emigrante" for Horse Fly in Taos, NM. And if you liked this week's column, you'll want to look at his latest project, Zoozone News.

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