January 10, 2024
Yesterday, after a Pacific storm turned the air to ice during the night, I woke to 15 degrees and busted pipes. Despite the heat tape, the foam insulation and pipe wrap, the incandescent bulbs plugged into thermostatically controlled outlets, the schedule 80 still blew out. Liquid water turning solid with a 9 percent expansion. Split brass. Shattered PVC.
Fortunately, with the turn of a few valves, the house still had water. The fountain still tricked over stalactites of ice.
I spent the morning trading out blocks of hummingbird nectar for fresh liquid—and then trading them out again until the yard climbed above freezing. For months, a pair of Anna’s hummingbirds has claimed the place, one male and one female after all the other hummingbirds departed south for the winter. So, I keep a few feeders filled, marveling at how a bird that weighs less than a nickel deals with bitter temperatures that rupture insulated pipes.
I know. Torpor. A kind of suspended animation, like hibernation, where metabolic activity—heart rate and respiration—slow to a minimum. For Anna’s hummingbirds, a heart that beats 460 times each minute at rest slows to 50 beats while a body temperature of 107 drops to 50 degrees F. Deep unconscious slumber. I understand this intellectually. But, after 14 hours of darkness and cold, the kind that sends me to my blankets and quilted heated mattress pad, each morning I see these feathered nuggets perched outside my window feels like the miraculous.
On this freezing morning, I watch birds from my kitchen window. The wife and I celebrate 43 years of marriage and I’m baking almond roll, her favorite.
While she remains in bed. In torpor.
Thanks for subscribing! More sweets and birds to come!
Congratulations, indeed! Num, num almond roll, but not surprising for a guy who also makes pies!
Anna’s over-winter here in the PNW, and would you believe it’s 5 F this morning? Much colder with the windchill. I’ve melted the syrup and lo! there’s the front porch hummer sipping away! It’s unbelievable and yes, miraculous.
We got down to 12.8° on the 9th and I was positive there would be no Anna's that morning. Wrong! One of the four that seem to be happy here was at the frozen solid feeder before I even thought about replenishing seed and suet. I keep an extra set of feeders in the house for swapping out on freezing mornings but I didn't even have a chance to do that. The replacement was going to freeze too but the male took some long sips before flying off. I have to wonder what temperature it takes to ensure complete torpor in these hardy tidbits of birds! Lucky wife you have (and congratulations!). Not sure my husband could even turn on the oven.