The English poet William Blake once said, “No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings.”  Both of my parents wanted that for me and they also both loved to feed the birds.  When I got married and we bought our home I could not wait to set up a bird feeder.  I eagerly anticipated the tranquility that watching them pause to eat would bring.  However it quickly became more like watching a gang fight.  The mourning doves, which I had always assumed were peaceful, became horrible bullies and crowded out the cardinals, mockingbirds, and even my beloved (and somewhat aggressive) blue jays.  We had the most well-fed morning doves around.  Pretty soon they became freakishly huge and started to resemble hordes of quail.  The poor little finches and sparrows could not even collect what was on the ground.  Fat squirrels (whom my husband calls “blub blubs”) hogged the bottom around the feeder gathering crumbs with all the desperation of a group who had just broken out of a fasting retreat.  Then we found out the cute tree rats were partaking from the feeders at night and that’s when the hubs said we had to stop.  I knew he was right but it broke my heart not to feed the birds anymore.  Devoid the chattering of squirrels and the cooing of mourning doves it has seemed sadly quiet.  We used to call our side yard “cat TV” because there was always something flitting about to watch.  Our cats would crouch down, make weird noises, and stalk their prey with twitching whiskers from the comfort of the den.  Then a visit with my family in Arizona made me realize:  hummingbirds!  I could at least feed them without bringing in anyone else.  Eagerly I came back home and made their nectar, a simple solution of one part white table sugar to four parts water.  The feeder is red to attract them without using any dye and it even has an ant blocker so the hummingbird’s nectar cannot be infiltrated and stolen.  I’ve had it up for months now and so far nothing.  I still keep watching and hoping; they say it takes awhile.  But I must confess, all this waiting is for the birds.