The Hummingbird War

Our HOA bylaws clearly stated that a hummingbird feeder must have no more than four feeding ports and a nectar vessel no greater than thirty-two ounces.

We understood the Eckells’ confusion, given the new generation of feeders available online. So we wrote a polite letter, signed by our board, asking the Eckells to remove their twelve-port, two-gallon Happy Hummer Mega Feeder which hung from their soffit. We even waved the five-hundred-dollar fine. Yet after two weeks, the Eckells failed to comply, and we continued to receive complaints.

One complaint came from Ms. Tyson-Frank who, while walking her puganese, noted that every gray-breasted, blue-throated, and black-chinned hummingbird was bypassing her yard and speeding towards the abomination above the Eckells’ porch.

Another came from Mr. Conner, who spotted Mrs. Eckell filling their feeder with Advanced Lab’s Special Formula Number 6 Hummingbird Nectar. It contained ingredients such as gnat particles, lab-formulated sucrose, theobromine, and red dye #40. This was a strict no-no.

Left with little choice, our board met on a sunny afternoon and walked down the Blue-Crunch No-Scuff recreation path, over the pedestrian bridge that spanned our artificial lake filled with Aqua Tonic Non-Evaporative Water, crossed the easement between Oak and Spruce Streets, and gathered on the Eckells’ porch.

Mrs. Chin, our president, wore a bright floral pantsuit and maintained a cheery disposition. “Perhaps the Eckells forgot to read the letter?” She pressed the doorbell. “Or misplaced it?”

Mr. Shiner, our treasurer, ducked to avoid a strafing hummingbird. He wore a shiny tracksuit and examined the feeder through gold-tinted glasses. “By God. It’s as big as a gas pump.”

“The nectar has an unusual rosy tint,” said Dr. Guzman, our vice president. “I wouldn’t mind getting a sample of that.” She was on her lunch break from Phoenix Pharmaceuticals and still donned her white lab coat. She had mousy hair and an egg-shaped head.

“It’s connected to the soffit,” said Mr. Shiner. “That’s another violation.”

“Simple mistake,” said Mrs. Chin.

Eventually, Mr. Eckell opened the door. He was a fifty-something man who dressed like somebody half his age. He wore flip flops, cargo shorts, and a t-shirt with a sine-wave pattern. He had silver sideburns and a trimmed goatee. It was rumored that he sold things off the internet. “Hello.”

“Hi, Mr. Eckell,” said Mrs. Chin. “We hate to bother you, but we have an urgent matter to discuss about your hummingbird feeder.”

“Amazing, isn’t it? The little birds can’t get enough. My wife has to fill it twice a day.”

“A feeder of this size is strictly against the bylaws.”

“It’s too big?”

“It’s an eyesore,” said Mr. Shiner.

“Huh?”

“We’re not saying you can’t have a feeder.” Mrs. Chin fended off a rose-throated hummingbird. “Just not one this large. And not in the front yard.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

“No, Mr. Eckell.” Dr. Guzman straightened her lab coat. “It must be removed.”

“Removed? I just spent two hundred and fifty dollars on this feeder.” Mr. Eckell itched his elbows. “It was on sale at NatureSquared.com. What a wonderful website, right? Have you visited? They have tons of awesome stuff for the yard.”

“This is a second violation.” Mr. Shiner adjusted his glasses. “The fine is now one thousand dollars.”

Mr. Eckell smirked. “Good luck collecting.”

“Please, Mr. Eckell,” said Mrs. Chin. “We understand your desire to attract nature to your yard. We all want more nature at Endless Paradise Estates. But hummingbirds are a limited resource. With a feeder of this size, you’re attracting more than your fair share.”

“Interesting. The HOA wants more nature.” Mr. Eckell flip-flopped across the porch. “Then why did you make me dig up my trumpet vine? That bush attracted more hummingbirds than my feeder.”

“Trumpet vine is invasive.”

“Of course. Invasive.” A gradient formed across Mr. Eckells’ brow. “I’m sorry, Mrs. President, but my feeder isn’t going anywhere. Go ahead and fine us. Stop inviting us to barbecues. Take away our access to the badminton court. But I refuse to listen to any more nonsense about what’s nature and what isn’t.” He shook his head. “Invasive. Do you know what’s invasive? You people. The HOA. Standing on my porch. Now do me a favor and disappear.”

He stepped inside and shut the door.

“Well,” said Mrs. Chin.

* * *

Three days later, our HOA voted unanimously to impose a one thousand dollar fine on the Eckells for an improperly sized and located hummingbird feeder. In addition, the board restricted the Eckells’ access to many community properties, including the clubhouse, the pool, the driving range, the cantina, the tennis courts, and the recreation path.

A few neighbors thought that we ought to have gone further. Mr. Connor, a stocky man with bulldog cheeks, grew red-faced during the meeting. He wanted us to hire Big Boy Handyman and Locksmith Services to sneak onto the Eckells’ property and confiscate their feeder. A few others agreed.

Mr. Shiner suggested a more peaceful measure, installing temporary bird netting on Oak Street, channeling the hummingbirds away from the Eckells’ property.

“I priced out six acres of Invisible Sky Humane Aerial Netting.” Mr. Shiner sat at his computer, peering over his gold-tinted glasses. “It’ll cost us twenty-four thousand dollars from NatureSquared.com.”

“Gee,” said Mrs. Horton. “That’s a lot.”

“We’ll have to raise our dues,” said Mrs. Chin.

“Let’s vote,” said Mr. Shiner.

So we voted, but only Mr. Connor and Mr. Shiner wanted the netting.

“Typical.” Mr. Connor stomped out of the clubhouse, his hackles raised. “All bark and no bite.”

Mr. Shiner accepted the defeat graciously. But as he descended the Lite Tread Safe Steps, he said, “I’ve played golf with Eckell. The man is highly competitive. You watch. He won’t back down.”

We did watch and, just as Mr. Shiner predicted, the Eckells did not comply with the HOA’s ruling, nor did they pay their fine. In the following week, neighbors on Oak, Pine, Fir, and Aspen Streets reported a steady drop in hummingbirds.

Ms. Tyson-Frank emailed the HOA stating, “I’ve seen two annas, both male, and one rufous female in the last three days. The broadtails and costas are completely gone. The Eckells have caused irreversible ecological damage.”

Another email came from Mr. Connor: “I can’t believe how toothless our HOA is. This is worse than the year when you replaced the trees and all the squirrels ran away. Bring back the hummingbirds now or I’ll handle this myself. That’s a promise.”

In all fairness, the tree-replacement project, which happened three years prior, was brought about by a persistent drought. The only trees that had survived were a handful of scraggly mesquites. We held numerous HOA meetings explaining the need for new trees. According to our online survey, most members were pleased with our selection, the sturdy and ultra-realistic Canopy Brand Polycore Fourteen-Foot Saplings. We also remedied the squirrel loss by purchasing ninety-five Critter World Genetically-Modified Grade-A Ground Squirrels. The squirrels were adapted to artificial trees and trained to collect nuts from Canopy Brand Long Pole Pellet Distributors which were stationed uniformly around the neighborhood and filled weekly for a nominal fee.

Following the aforementioned HOA meeting, Mr. Connor kept his promise and made the unfortunate decision to purchase the largest feeder on NatureSquared.com, the Nature! Nature! Twenty-four-Port Eight-Gallon Hummingbird High-Rise with a hidden speaker system that played subsonic hummingbird calls. Swarms of hummingbirds could now be seen over two distinct properties in Endless Paradise Estates while the rest of us suffered bleak yards and abandoned feeders.

Further escalation occurred a few days later when Mr. Eckell responded by not only installing additional feeders behind his privacy gable but also hooking up a Yard Life Day-Night UV and Visual Light Holo Projector. It was capable of generating over three hundred square feet of hologram decoys, photo-realistic lupine, butterfly bush, columbine, and trumpet creepers, used to attract more hummingbirds.

In addition, the Eckells brazenly flaunted the HOA's ruling by illegally accessing Endless Paradise Estates community properties. Mr. Eckell allegedly bribed an attendant with a hundred dollar bill to gain access to the driving range, bringing his own bucket of balls instead of the regulation Danny Divot Lite Orange Flyers. Mrs. Eckell donned a silver wig and pretended to be Mrs. Horton so she could visit the clubhouse and attend her online spin class, Tour de Thighs.

Thankfully, we had a remedy for the Eckells’ behavior. We could confiscate their five thousand dollar escrow. And if their noncompliance continued, we could impose a lien on their property. Our final and most drastic option would be to obtain legal counsel and foreclose on their house, forcing the Eckells to move out of Endless Paradise Estates.

We hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Foreclosure required tedious court proceedings and their house might sit empty for months. The neighborhood would risk losing its seventy-five percent occupancy rating and this would make Mrs. Chin extremely unhappy.

At the next HOA meeting, our board made a stern and forceful statement by voting unanimously to confiscate the Eckells’ escrow. In addition, we issued fines and harsh warnings to Mr. Connor for installing a non-compliant hummingbird feeder. This was followed by Mr. Shiner revealing a previously unknown violation on Pine Street.

“My drone picked up an unusually high number of hummingbirds swarming above a third house.” Mr. Shiner paced in his tracksuit. “It appears that our vice president has joined the hummingbird war. Dr. Guzman is mixing non-standard, pharmaceutical-grade nectar in her garage and pumping it into her feeder from a buried refrigeration tank.”

The entire room shuddered and glared at Dr. Guzman.

“Is that a violation?” She stood cross-armed in her lab coat.

“You know it is! You helped write the bylaws,” said Mrs. Horton. “We’re only supposed to feed hummingbirds sugar and water, just like in nature.”

“You’re running an avian meth lab,” said Mr. Shiner.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration. I’m testing a few formulas.” Dr. Guzman’s egg-shaped head wobbled. “Did you realize that a hummingbird heart can withstand over twelve hundred beats per minute? Not much more than that, mind you.”

Mrs. Horton hissed.

“Please, everyone. Let’s remain civil.” Mrs. Chin raised her hand. “Perhaps we should again consider Mr. Shiner’s bird netting? Maybe just on Pine Street?”

“Don’t forget Oak Street,” said Mr. Connor. “The Eckells started this mess.”

“And you escalated it,” said Mr. Shiner.

“Because the HOA can’t do its job!”

“Neighbors, please.” Mrs. Chin stepped between the two men. “The board will handle this in a prompt and civil manner, according to the bylaws.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Mr. Connor wagged a finger. “Just so you know, I’m not backing down. I just dropped another nine thousand dollars at NatureSquared.com. Five more feeders, a catch-and-release tagging system, and an electric honing device. Say goodbye to your hummingbirds, people. They’re mine. All mine!” He chuckled, his jowls shaking, and hopped down the Lite Tread Safe Steps, exiting the clubhouse.

After a short silence, Mr. Chin spoke. “Tell us more about this aerial netting, Mr. Shiner.”

* * *

In hindsight, perhaps the netting was an overcorrection. Yet our HOA couldn’t ignore our well-behaved residents who deserved to see hummingbirds. As representatives of Endless Paradise Estates, we needed to send a message to our non-compliant neighbors. They mustn’t hoard nature all to themselves. Nature was a resource that belonged to everyone. It must be easily accessible and evenly distributed. Thus, we voted to install Invisible Sky Humane Aerial Netting throughout the entire neighborhood, costing one hundred and sixty thousand dollars along with an increase in HOA dues by seventy-eight dollars a month.

Two days later, the canary-yellow trucks from NatureSquared.com showed up. Mr. Shiner met personally with the crew until we were satisfied with their plan. It took three days to install the netting, and soon it ran up and down every street, taut and nearly invisible.

“That’s a lot of netting,” said Mrs. Horton.

“Impressive,” said Mr. Shiner.

“It’s only temporary, right?” asked Mrs. Chin.

An anticipatory lull settled across our backyards as every resident with compliant feeders waited eagerly for the hummingbirds to return. And magically, two days later, it happened. Entire streets, including Pine, Aspen, and Spruce, witnessed the return of darting and strafing hummingbirds. Hearts were lifted. Nectar was drunk. Photos were posted. And although the neighborhood experienced a few dead zones, the complaints to the HOA subsided.

Unfortunately, two days later, the elation dwindled as many residents observed a dip in hummingbird visits. During the following week, the sightings dropped more, eventually going to zero. And then dead hummingbirds started appearing on the sidewalks. Complaints came from every street, even from residents with non-compliant feeders whose numbers were increasing. Nine households now had oversized feeders, and judging from the NatureSquared.com boxes in recycling containers, more were on the way.

Left with little choice, we announced an emergency HOA meeting. Mrs. Chin was forced to spend twenty minutes reassuring us that everything was okay. To boost our morale, she even scheduled a Hawaiian-themed barbecue potluck. “It’s going to be maikaʻi loa.” Then she handed the floor over to the treasurer.

Mr. Shiner looked frazzled, as if he hadn’t changed his tracksuit in days. His eyes were pinpoints and his lips were extremely red. “Neighbors, I just got off the phone with NatureSquared.com and the news isn’t good. It seems we failed to read the fine print. Apparently Invisible Sky Humane Aerial Netting might make hummingbirds more territorial. The birds are growing aggressive, forming packs, and fighting among themselves. We should expect a twenty percent decrease in the population per week.”

A few members gasped.

“They’re murdering each other?”

“Because of our feeders?”

“Poor little things,” said Mrs. Horton.

“NatureSquared.com suggests that we keep our aerial netting extremely taut,” Mr. Shiner said. “A sagging net will cause more birds to get trapped. They also suggested using bird deterrents, sonic spookers, and flashing laser beams to disrupt aggressive birds.”

“You better figure this out.” Mr. Connor growled. “I pay this HOA too much money to not enjoy my birds.”

“They’re not your birds,” said Mrs. Horton.

“They’re yours?”

Mr. Shiner cleared his throat and lifted a baggie containing a scarlet liquid. “In other news, we’ve had a sharp increase in illegal nectar. It appears that Dr. Guzman is hiring kids from the junior high to hang out on street corners and deal the stuff. I bought this on Pine Street. Has anybody seen our vice president?”

We looked around the room, but she was absent.

Mrs. Horton leaned towards the treasurer. “Have you been sampling that?”

“For scientific reasons,” said Mr. Shiner.

“Let me get a taste.” Mr. Connor reached for the baggie.

“Back off, sir.”

Mr. Connor reached for the baggie and they both wrestled to the floor. Then two families from Aspen Street got into a shoving match. Another family from Fir Street jumped into the melee. And then it was chaos. A table broke. The dartboard fell off the wall. The carrots, celery, and broccoli plate tumbled across the carpet. Mrs. Chin waved her arms, trying to calm everybody down. And for nearly ten minutes, we lost control.

Finally, Mr. Shiner climbed on a chair and whistled. “Everybody settle down! I can bring the hummingbirds back!”

The yelling stopped and we sheepishly went to our corners.

Mr. Shiner deposited the baggie below his desk. “The HOA has everything under control. Trust us. The board members will discuss the nectar problem offline with Dr. Guzman. Let the bylaws work. In the meantime, I want nobody going to Pine Street to buy nectar. Do we all hear?” He sat behind his computer, breathing heavy.

“Now you’ll be happy to know that I might have a solution for the plummeting hummingbird population, one that should satisfy everyone. NatureSquared.com is offering a subscription service that will offset the deaths caused by aerial netting and aggressive birds. It’s a safe and natural solution, just like stocking a fishpond. And it only costs a few thousand dollars a week. Of course, this will prompt another increase in dues.” He swiveled his monitor. “But look here. They have all kinds of hummingbirds. Annas. Costas. Lucifers. Rufous. Broad-tailed. Calliopes.”

Everyone gathered around the computer, peering over Mr. Shiner’s shoulder. Bright and fantastic birds flashed across his screen. For many minutes, we were entranced.

“Gee,” said Mrs. Horton. “I’ve never seen a calliope.”

“Me neither,” said Mrs. Chin.

“Do they have bumblebees?”

“Cinnamons?”

“Look, they’ve got beryllines,” said Mr. Conner. “I took a photo of one last year.”

“My mom loves those,” said Mr. Horton. “She screams in delight every time one flies past her window.”

After twenty minutes of perusing the subscription packages, Mr. Shiner peered over his gold-tinted glasses. “Neighbors, this could be a solution.”

Relieved by our newfound cohesiveness, our members quickly voted in favor of the subscription service, choosing the Eden Plus 12 Live Hummingbird Summer Bouquet Sampler with the weekly delivery option. We also voted to purchase six Nature! Nature! Avian Deterrent Sonic Spookers, and nine AutoBird Flight Tracker A5 Repellent Lasers to handle the aggressive birds. We finished the order with a one-year-plan from NatureSquared.com for aerial netting tightening, patch, repair, and clean-up of dead birds. The vote was unanimous. Feeling united and hopeful, we said our goodbyes and adjourned the meeting.

At first, the subscription package seemed to be a panacea. The skies of Endless Paradise Estates teemed with hummingbirds. The feeders were like firework displays. We had more than enough nature for everyone.

And yet sadly, the over-abundance only caused more problems. The hummingbird war spread to every street, becoming a multi-front battleground. Residents kept purchasing bigger and bigger feeders, trying to attract the more exotic breeds. Bright, plastic strongholds cluttered nearly every porch and gable. Strobing floral displays lit up the night sky.

And then more alarming events occurred. An electric fence was constructed in the easement on Aspen Street. Cybernetic hawks circled Spruce Street. And an underground hatchery was discovered on Pine Street. The canary-yellow trucks from NatureSquared.com became a regular presence, screeching to stops and depositing crews of uniformed workers to clean up dead birds, trap overly aggressive swarms, patch netting, and release new birds. They scurried through our backyards carrying nets and barking orders through crackling radios.

Collectively we felt helpless. Many neighbors spurned the HOA and stopped paying their dues. Social gatherings at the clubhouse ceased all together. A few residents grew despondent and put their houses on the market. All because of these tiny ephemeral birds? Why did we care so much? What were we missing from our lives?

Our board members sought desperately for a solution. Should we purchase a new ping pong table for the game room? Stock the artificial lake with Critter World Genetically-Enhanced Koi? Hold a weekly continental breakfast with waffles, home fries, and orange juice?

At the next HOA meeting, the tension was palpable. Nobody chit-chatted or made eye contact. The celery, carrot, and broccoli platter remained untouched. Dr. Guzman returned, looking disheveled and wearing sunglasses. Mr. Connor circled the room, red-faced. And to everyone’s surprise, the Eckells showed up. Mr. Eckell wore a black t-shirt displaying a schematic of an integrated chip. Mrs. Eckell sported an electric-blue beehive and wore a flower-patterned polyester dress. Many neighbors stared at the troublesome couple who had started this mess.

Mrs. Chin walked to the center of the clubhouse, straightened her pantsuit, and for once, wasn’t smiling. “Thanks everyone for being present today. It’s nice to see some fresh faces.” She forced a smile at the Eckells.

“Neighbors, we have some big decisions to make. We need to decide what sort of neighborhood Endless Paradise Estates will be. How much nature we can tolerate. Some of us are facing foreclosure. Others are facing liens. For the first time in years, our occupancy rate is in danger of dropping below seventy-five percent. This hummingbird business has gone too far. I’m terrified to walk outside. Sonic spookers keep spooking me. Yellow vans speed down our streets at unreasonable speeds. Dead birds keep dropping on my head.” She pointed in all directions. “And none of you attended my barbecue!”

Mrs. Chin was interrupted by a scream coming from outside the clubhouse.

Everyone hushed.

“Come outside! Quick!”

Mr. Shiner was the first out the door, running in his tracksuit down the Blue-Crunch No-Scuff recreation path. Next came the Hortons, followed by Mr. Connor and Mrs. Chin and the rest of us. Well, everyone except for the Eckells, who remained sitting with bemused looks, comfortably perched on matching Cloud Puff Faux Leather Carefree Loungers.

When we ran outside and rounded the corner, we spotted Ms. Tyson-Frank standing alone at the crest of a hill with her hand over her mouth. We climbed the hill and crowded around, looking where she pointed. And we were horrified.

Below the hill was a line of canary-yellow trucks where crews in hazmat suits dragged garbage bags towards a large hole that was the size of an Olympic swimming pool. The workers tossed the bags in the ditch. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. When the bags landed, they split open, and dead hummingbirds poured out. The ditch was carpeted. And when the sunlight struck the pile, the dead birds sparkled like jewels.

“By God,” whispered Mr. Shiner.

“What have we done?” said Mrs. Horton. “It’s a killing field.”

“A crime,” said Mrs. Chin. “A crime against nature.”

We were silenced. Stunned. Sickened. For many moments we stood side-by-side watching the bags of dead hummingbirds get tossed into the ditch. They kept coming and coming. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Some residents couldn’t look away. A few gagged. Others walked numbly back to the clubhouse. Mr. Connor took photos.

Sometime later we filtered back to the clubhouse and resumed the HOA meeting. The mood was somber. Mrs. Chin raised her hand. “Neighbors, considering what we’ve just witnessed, I motion that we immediately hire Big Boy Handyman and Locksmith Services to go around to every property and confiscate our over-sized feeders. They should also remove all home improvements related to hummingbirds, the aerial netting, and the sonic deterrents. The hummingbird war must stop now.”

“That’s a bit of an overreach,” said Mr. Connor.

“Not if we vote for it.”

“What about the subscription service?” asked Mr. Shiner. “We paid for a full year.”

“Fine, we’ll keep the subscription service,” said Mrs. Chin. “But everything else must go.”

After much grumbling and teeth gnashing, we voted. Only the Eckells abstained. And thankfully, by a slight margin, the motion passed.

A few residents were livid, Mr. Connor among them. “Go ahead and foreclose on me, Mrs. President. I can’t live in a neighborhood that won’t even let me have a bird feeder.” He stalked out of the clubhouse. A few others followed.

As for the rest of us, we let out a collective sigh. With the hummingbird war officially over and our members emotionally spent, the meeting adjourned and everyone filed out of the clubhouse. Everyone except for the Eckells and the board members.

“We’ve come to pay our fine,” said Mr. Eckell, approaching Mrs. Chin.

“I talked him into it,” said Mrs. Eckell, her blue beehive bouncing. “It’s so silly to fight over nature.”

Mrs. Chin smiled. “I’m happy you two came to your senses. It’s been crazy, this hummingbird business. Who knew that tiny birds could cause so much trouble? We’ve issued fines and taken escrows, and now two houses are going into foreclosure, including our vice president’s. If only we knew how to make our neighbors happy.”

“Good luck with that.” Mr. Eckell handed the check to Mr. Shiner and the couple proceeded down the Lite Tread Safe Steps.

“If you have any ideas . . .” Mrs. Chin said, her voice trailing off.

Mr. Eckell halted on the steps. “Huh?”

“For making our neighbors happy,” said Mrs. Chin.

Mr. Shiner peered over his gold-tinted glasses. “The HOA could always use more input.”

The Eckells exchanged looks on the Lite Tread Safe Steps. Then Mr. Eckell smiled and turned his gray eyes. “Since you asked.” He hopped back up the steps. “Have you visited NaturedSquared.com recently? We’re having a blowout sale on water features.”

“We’re?” asked Mr. Shiner.

Mr. Eckell put his arms around the treasurer’s shoulders. “Imagine every resident of Endless Paradise Estates having their own multi-tiered water feature. Nothing could bring more joy. Each fountain is built from Wonder Wall Artificial Rocks and contains a holding pond filled with Aqua Tonic Non-Evaporative Water covered in Canopy Brand Fourteen-Inch-Diameter Lily Pads and stocked with Critter World Genetically-Modified Grade-A Frogs. And that’s just getting started . . .”