Grabbing a pair of scissors I intended to trim back some ratty, wind beaten petunias when a hummingbird visited. Only the ruby-throated hummingbird graces our part of Minnesota. The rather selective creature flitted about the blossoms but did not stay to dine. Did it find my petunias too shabby; was it too skittish to eat in my presence; or did it decide it preferred a bug for breakfast?

By mid September they are gone and the leaves are tinged with red, yellow and gold. The late August - early September departure of the hummingbirds triggers the task of wrapping my mind around another approaching winter. It suggests pulling the wool and fleece out of storage.

Ornithologist say a newly hatched hummer has no knowledge of migration. It simply has the urge to put on weight and then the shortening length of sunlight triggers the urge to fly in a particular direction for a certain amount of time, then look for a good place to spend the winter.

Well, while not newly hatched, I’ve put on some weight, the days are getting shorter. Maybe that explains the damn restlessness I feel this September!