For several summers past, we've put out hummingbird feeders, and these little winged dynamos come right up to the kitchen window to dip their needle beaks and sip sugarwater. You have to watch closely because they're small and they're fast, but hummingbirds have the most beautiful iridescent green bellies, but even if you can't make out their bellies, watching them appear out of nowhere, hover, dip, sip, hover, dip sip, and then dart off into the distance, nothing of the wings but a blurry patch of air next to each shoulder, cannot fail to make the most careworn smile. Last winter we put out suet cages, and it took a while for the birds to discover to discover them, but once they did, we began getting the most marvelous profusion of birds, birds I never suspected we have around here. Now, with the days getting warmer, I wonder if it's time to go ahead and put out the hummingbird feeders, too. Think of it! Looking out the window as you put away the dishes to see hummingbirds, and catbirds, and mockingbirds, and finches, right on the other side of the glass. We have a bat, too, that I really only see this time of year, and the most spectacular woodpecker, that is so handsome, you really think he must be putting on. There's an owl, some mornings, making solemn owl noises. I wish I could put up something for them, too. A piece of buggy bark hanging from a string for the woodpecker perhaps, or a struggling live mouse for the owl, but some flying things won't come to the window on command, and you just have to hear them and see them when you can. In the meantime, I can make do with hummingbirds.