Dear Readers:

After nearly five years in the Maine Weekend Home & Garden section, soon you’ll find my column each week on the front page of Tuesday’s Style section. This editorial change will take effect on Tuesday, June 1.

Over the years, I have very much enjoyed being a source of gardening information for the people of central, eastern and northern Maine. Even though I sit alone at my computer and write, and you sit in your homes, on your porches, and in your yards and read, I have felt connected. I have enjoyed your letters, your calls and meeting you at gardening events (and in post offices, grocery stores and restaurants, etc.) I treasure hearing your gardening exploits, your advice and your opinions.

I want to continue connecting with you and sharing the fellowship that goes along with gardening. I hope you’ll make the move with me.

This week a hummingbird became trapped in my greenhouse. Attracted by hanging baskets of blooming nasturtiums, the tiny creature breezed in, and fluttered about from bloom to bloom. The humming of her wings and the chattering noise she made collecting nectar became pleasant background music while I watered my plants. But I got thinking about other things and soon I forgot she was there.

Evening came and as I closed the greenhouse for the night I noticed the small bird resting on the metal frame. I tried to wave her toward the door, but she resisted, beating her wings and relentlessly bobbing up and down against the plastic covering overhead.

After a few minutes the poor bird dropped from exhaustion. She landed in a flat of zinnias and fell down at the base of one plant. I carefully reached in to pick her up. At first I couldn’t even tell if I had grasped her because she was so remarkably light. When I felt a tiny leg press against my finger, I lifted her out and put her in the bottom of a big pot. I covered the pot with some paper, carried it outside and put it on a nearby boulder.

As soon as I lifted the paper away, my curious cat waltzed over to question the goings-on. I scooped her up and took her to the house. When I got back the little hummingbird was gone without a trace.

Of all the birds that visit my yard, hummingbirds are my favorite. Although they come throughout the day, they seem to be most plentiful in the early morning hours, before the traffic starts up, when the world is still and quiet. The hummingbird family represents the smallest birds on earth. Many species are less than 3 inches in length and weigh well under an ounce. Despite their tiny size, these ornithological wonders are fiercely territorial. They’ve been known to dive-bomb other birds, and even people who pass by their feeding grounds.

While nearly two dozen hummingbird species may be found throughout the United States, only one, the ruby-throated hummingbird, is found east of the Mississippi. The adult male is about 4 inches long with metallic or iridescent emerald-green back feathers, a ruby red throat and a white breast. The female is duller in coloration and lacks the ruby throat.

The hummingbird has a specialized skeletal structure which allows it to twist its wings and, beating them 22 to 78 times per second, hover in midair. The wing movement is so strong and so rapid that it produces a humming sound. The wings of the hummingbird take it on an incredible migration in fall. Many of those we see in our yards this summer will cross the more than 500-mile expanse of the Gulf of Mexico nonstop, on their trip to Central or South America.

Ruby throated hummingbirds feed on nectar and minute insects found in flowers. With long thin beaks and extensible tongues, they are perfectly equipped to feed on tubular flowers, like those of nicotiana, honeysuckle and bee balm. Once they have completed their feeding, they must fly backward to move away from the flower. This type of flight is unique to their family.

Reader connection

A fellow gardener shared the following with me, and I thought that since it is the beginning of a new garden season, it would be apt to share it with you. It is titled “A Gardener’s Blessing.”

“May the bunnies never nibble on your young and tender shoots. May your transplants settle in and put down hardy roots. May your weeds come out real easy and your lawn be fungus-free. May you never put your back out or inhale a bumblebee. May your roses never stab you or your hoses spring a leak. And may everyone come calling when your garden’s at its peak. May you never grow too weary as you toil for hours and hours. And may you never be too busy to stop and smell the flowers.”