ROGERS — They’re gone, I think. I haven’t seen one since last Thursday, but I haven’t removed the feeders yet. One tiny iridescent bird just might stop by for a quick snack on his way south to meet the other hummingbirds in Florida or Mexico or wherever they convene this time of year.

When I was about 10, Mom told me about the minute inhabitants of Mrs.

McDonald’s honeysuckle vines. When we visited, I sat on the porch watching for them. I wanted to see a bird “so small a child could hold it inside a closed fist - if she could catch it.”

Mom said only a cat was quick enough to grab a hummingbird because its little wings moved so fast they blurred like the blades of an electric fan. She said they were the only birds that could move up and down without changing their horizontalposition.

I told an older neighbor girl that I watched the honeysuckle for days but still did not see even one of the birds;

when my brother yelled, “Look! There’s one!” I never saw it. It seemed to disappear before I could focus.

“They’re like fairies,” Georgia told me in a whisper.

“They only allow certain people to see them. Even if you get a glimpse of one, it may move - just flit away - unless it wants you to see it.”

When I told my brother, he said, “They ain’t no darned fairies! They’re just little bitty birds. She’s just a-pullin’ your leg.”

At last I saw one of these surreal little creatures. It was indeed fairy-like, moving from flower to flower in short flights straight up, then down or across with such speed and precision that I was awestruck. As it flew, its green head seemedmotionless while its entire body vibrated from the constant rapid whirring of its miniature wings. Its long and curved beak dipped into the center of the blossoms;

when it turned to drink the nectar, a bright flash of red feathers appeared on its neck. And then it was gone.

Had I dreamed it? Had I seen a fairy?

Now each year the hummingbirds come to visit my flower beds and the feeders on my deck. They come with families and friends, it seems, and spend the summer. They perform spectacular aerobatic feats and vie for the food and my attention from April to October.

Then one day, I notice the flowers fading, the fluid in the feeders at the same level for days and I know they have gone. There’s a nostalgic sadness in the air. I’ll take down the feeders and put them away.

Autumn is here and winter is just around the corner.

We’ll soon see snow and ice; the north wind will chill the landscape and our aging bones. I’ll put out birdseed for the cardinals and indigo buntings, which will brighten the place a little as they hop about looking for seeds and pine nuts.

In a few short months the ice will melt, the chill wind will stop and the earth will warm again. I’ll see little buds on the vines along the fence row. Then it will be time to get out the hummingbird feeders.

I’ll begin to watch the honeysuckle vines for the return of the delicate fairy birds.

When the first appears, I’ll fill the bright feeders with heavenly nectar and hang them along the deck in anticipation of my summer guests. Maybe they’ll bring their grandchildren!

Martha Hogan Estes was born in Vernon County, Mo., but came to northwest Arkansas in the early 1940s.

She attended public schools in Washington and Benton counties and raised a family there after short residencies in Tulsa, St. Louis and Memphis. She holds a BA in English from the University of Arkansas and is retired from the Rogers offices of Georgia-Pacific. She is a member and co-facilitator of LifeWriters.

Opinion, Pages 4 on 11/04/2009

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