Hummer went a courtin'

Things are starting to warm up as the vernal equinox approaches.  Over the past few years, the spring has been coming, well, in spring.  Here in the northwest, we have weather phenomena like "pineapple express" (which the weather folks now call an "atmospheric river") to explain the torrential rains, in whichever season they occur, that feel warm compared to the temps that precede and follow them; or "Junuary" which is when we can get inexplicably warm weather in the middle of January, or the coverse, inexplicably cold weather in June.  One of the other weather phenomena is the convention that summer does not arrive until July fifth.  Over the recent years of global warming, here in the northwest, by the time July rolls around we have already started drought and fire season.  The northwest is starting to have more typical seasons, including snow in winter.  A lot of snow, which the skiers might get excited about, but then a pineapple express hits and melts all the snow (and the snowpack we need to avert summer drought) and causes flooding and soil saturation and landslides and ....  Well, you get the picture.

I watched a male Anna's hummingbird a-courting today.  I can't remember when this starts.  I do remember that the first sign of spring for me, even before robins, is the bachelor red wing blackbirds arrive.  They usually show up about a month before the ladies.  And some have shown up, but not as many as normal this year.  Maybe we have another winter blast coming, but somehow, the birds just know, and they come, scoping out the prospects.  The male Anna's hummingbirds overwinter here, and when the ladies arrive, they find mates and have chicks and then the ladies migrate.  I go through two feeders a day when the whole clan is carb-loading; in summer, I buy the big twenty-five pound bags of sugar at the warehouse store.  There are also rufous hummingbirds that show up for the spring and summer, along with the swallows, but I keep at least one feeder through the winter going for the Anna's who overwinter.  It can be tricky during the midwinter single digit nights to keep those birds in sugar. 

I might be in denial when I say only the males overwinter, but there is definitely one mature male with the iridescent purple mask that is a constant, and he chases off other birds most days.  When I see that, I start hanging more feeders.  One male was practicing his courting song last month.  I think it might have been the immature male--it was like listening to a teenage human boy whose voice is changing, it was a thin honk, and a barely audible song.  He wasn't swooping that I could see.  

Today, there must have been a new girl on the block.  The mature Anna's was in full mode, with the big swoops, and the honk.  He was really getting vertical height before starting his swoop, and I always think they are going to hit something, but no, they don't.  I have one birding book that has a graphic showing, in essence, a time lapse of the shape of the swoop.  I think the same book might describe the honk, but no other birding book of mine says anything about the mating ritual.  Maybe if I had a book specific to the two species of hummers that live up here, I would find this intel, but I saw something today for the first time and want to note it.

As background, here is what I have previously observed:

for the Anna's, the swoop starts above the female, the male rises nearly vertically above the female, then breaks the climb, and flies down at full speed, turning his flight into an arc past the female, brakes sharply and reverses to come to a hover about fifteen feet above her, then repeats.  Along with the swoop are vocalizations.  Exactly as he passes her in the bottom of his arc, he toots, or honks, a single loud noise.  When he hovers over her after the arc, he chitters.  If you have ever been scolded by a hummingbird, you know what I mean.  Then he starts to rise vertically and starts the whole swoop-vocalization cycle again.

for the rufous, it is a bit different.  The book I mentioned describes the shape of the swoop slightly differently, but for me, what I notice is that the honk happens when the male stops above the female.  No chittering.  

A few days ago I was clearing briars and a male hummingbird was in the bushes singing.  Singing, like he was a sparrow!  He kept pivoting his head, looking for somebody I think, but the song didn't bring any groupies, and he flew away.  

Today, when I saw the male Anna's courting, I didn't see the female.  But he was persistent.  And since the feeders hang in front of my house, I knew I was interrupting, but he must have thought she was interested because instead of flying away as I approached, he landed on one of the planters and started making googly eyes at her.  By that, I mean he started serenading her, with his chittering, and googly face making.  Stay with me.  Male Anna's have "masks" which are the purply iridescent feathers that cover their heads.  In some light they can look black, but they are iridescent purplish.  Since I have time to watch my feeders, I have seen that on the mature male, at the sides of his face, where human ears would be, the feathers do not lie flat on his head, but stick out past his head, behind his head, like a weird sideburn.  Today, this male was flaring his iridescent purply feathers out, so he made a kind of dragon face, a square jawline, a big face, and it pulsed while he chittered and stuck out his tongue.  Like he was a bullfrog, blowing himself bigger.  The two flew off in the same direction, so it might have worked.

I have seen the males duel, and watched them flare their tale feathers to intimidate each other, but I have never seen anyone flare their face feathers and make googly eyes before.  That was a new one on me.  And now I have told you, so the secret is out.  Don't steal the little guy's move, okay?

Singles and Plies

I am not a very good spinner, in fact I am barely above a day one beginner.  But over the years of practice, I can confirm that practice makes...better.  I can usually keep my strand in one piece.  For me, understanding the principles of spinning has driven me to spin finer singles.  If I can keep a fine strand going, then getting thicker singles mean just putting more fiber in the drafting triangle.  In fact, if I go for too long between spinning sessions, I find myself starting fat for a few inches before I can work down to the fine again.  

Spinning a strand of singles means twisting the individual fibers in order that the fibers lock together, at the same time you constantly overlap layers of individual fibers to extend the strand, continuously twisting so that the fibers stick together.  Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Sort of like laying a brick wall, how the bricks overlap each other to keep the wall strong.  Instead of cement (or mortar), use twist.  The more twist, the stronger the individual single (single strand) will be.  But it is possible to put too much twist into the fiber.  There is a balance of adding just enough extra twist into the single so that after you have made a long enough strand, you can ply that single with another single (or two or three or more) or even with itself, and overtwisting the single so that it wants to curl and knot up on itself when you let go of it. 

In our society, most yarn used for knitting, or weaving, or whatever, is plied.  In the same way that more twist makes a single stronger, combining two or more singles makes that combined (plied) yarn stronger.  Which is probably the main reason society wants plied yarns.  

Plies don't have to be made of singles of the same kind of fiber.  You can make a plied yarn from a single of wool with a single of silk.  Or a ply from a single of one color and a single of a second color.  Plied yarn, in addition to being stronger also allows for more possibilities from a design perspective.  

But I think singles get a bad rep.  Historically, singles have been used to weave fabric on warp-weighted looms, and kept the human race from freezing in the days before central heating.  I don't know for sure without doing some research, but singles may have also been woven into the sails that sailed Eric to the coast of North America on his Viking questing.  You can spin singles with just enough twist to hold them together, making a soft supple fabric when knitted or woven (but more fragile).  You can spin a singles with a lot of twist for strength and long wear, fighting its natural instinct to double back on itself, and weave or knit it into a fabric that wants to bias in turn, but it is as long wearing as you can want. You can spin singles thick or thin, or even"frog hair'.  Singles are done when you are finished spinning, ready to use in a final product.  Singles highlight the qualities of the fiber used to spin the single.  

The size of plied yarn is partly determined by the thickness of the singles used to ply the yarn, and the number of plies to make the final yarn.  Plied yarn can be plied in interesting and creative ways.  You can ply all the singles together in one go, you can ply one single at a time, twisting the opposite direction each time you add a ply.  You can make a plied yarn cabled, or chained.  It requires "frog hair" singles if you want a very fine plied yarn, but it is (and was) done.  Historically.  Pre-industrial revolution.  By folks sitting in their dark cottages lit by candlelight.  Well, maybe whale oil. And when I say "folks" you should read "women and children".  The only time I can think of when european men handled singles and plies, pre-industrial revolution (because they took over nearly all the fiber activities when all those machines showed up), is rope-making.  But they got to beat the rope with those clubs, so there's that. I do know of some males who engage in fiber activity, and even some males who make a living teaching females how to be fibery (go figure).  It's not just the flower child/hippies of the 60s.  

Oddly enough, I haven't heard anything about survivalists educating themselves to create cloth with fiber after society collapses; I guess they are going to be wearing furs and leathers.