Don't worry about the hummingbirds

Birds are definitely on the move south.  The little cinnamon-green hummers - Rufous, by name, are now few and far between in southwest Washington state.  I have a feeder just outside my office window where I (and the cat) can watch these little guys mob the four feeding perches.  Usually.  Not this year, though.  For some reason, hummers weren't using feeders to the usual extent this year.  I read that this has been a common experience on the state-wide birder email server. And now they appear to have moved south on their annual journey to warmer places.
Our garden is full of hummer-friendly plantings, and the pugnacious little guys were everywhere, competing among themselves and with the Anna's, the other resident hummer.  Our escallonia, a flowering shrub/tree, fills with clusters of pink blooms every year.  The hummers love this tree.  It also has twisty, dense branches that discourage predators.  It's food and home all in one.  Still, they always used to make the trip around the house for an easy meal at the feeder. 
The Anna's on the other hand, spend the full year  here.  These are greener looking hummers, and the males'  gorgets, or throat plates, are a vivid maroon when they catch the light.  Stunning.  They do spend the winter here, and do well, regardless of the presence of feeders.  They've been doing it long before we humans became aware of them.
Earlier in the year, I wrote about the Anna's surviving temperatures of eighteen degrees, with snow.  They drop their metabolism and simply roost in a protected place.  When the sun comes up, they begin to move slowly, slowly, then shake a bit, ridding themselves of accumulated snow, and off they go.    I keep the feeder full and warm just for a treat for them.  They survive on insects mainly, found under bark and elsewhere on trees.
As I type, an immature Anna's just briefly checked out the feeder.  His, or her, color is still undefined, lots of gray mixed in with white and brown/green.   So tiny, and their feet- delicate perfect black toes, almost hairlike.  I love the way most birds neatly tuck feet and legs back when flying, then extend them just perfectly when landing.  A small thing, but a gift to observe, I think. 
As the days shorten and the rains begin, I'll watch for the Anna's at the feeder.  I'll watch for them to leave the protected L of the house where the eucalyptus grows and where they shelter, next to the chimney.  I'll look forward to their buzzing-around-my-head demands when I go out in the cold to refresh their feeder.   Even if it's raining, there is a wild thing or two to bring joy.

Thoughts on another resident bird. 

Dee Dee

Tiny masked face in the pine
Bright bead eye
Follows my measured moves
As I fill the feeder.