If I were a hummingbird migrating South for winter,
say wanting to go South from Florida, I would totally check out Puerto Rico
this time of year. Last weekend as I was walking up the road collecting plants
in my press I noticed many flowers were tubular in form and red in color.
Whilst merrily strolling and collecting, two small birds swooped to a nearby,
overhead branch. The playful birds jumped back and forth through the varying
strata of the hibiscus tree's crown, chirping happily as I watched. I
stepped lightly towards the tree overhanging the road, as to not alarm, in
attempt to glimpse these darting little buggers. Unexpectedly, one bird perched
on a branch only 20 feet away at which time I was able to make out an emerald
green body, red throat, and long beak. Now I am no ornithologist, but
those characters match nicely with hummingbirds I've seen.
Hummingbird? (center of picture)
Hummingbirds? Tubular, red flowers? Duh! It fits so
nicely. Hummingbirds are migrating south for the winter and they arrive in PR
just in time for the tubular red flowers blooming.
Neorudolphia volubilis
After leaving the blithe birds to their affairs and
continuing on my own blissful botanical promenade, I savored my astuteness for
taking two observations, random pieces of the ecological puzzle, and fitting
them together so soundly. 'Over the course of millennia, hummingbirds have
selected for those flowers blooming in fall,' I thought. 'How marvelous!
I'm a scientist!' I reassured, myself.
Ipomoea sp.
Continuing to appreciate my surroundings, I climbed
to the top of a Buchenavia tetraphylla, a separate topic
of discovery, before returning the way I came. I passed some blooming Impoea sitting
in a Callophyllum calaba: Supporting evidence
that the abundance of red flowers, surely correlates to presence of the
hummingbirds. The hummingbirds were long gone by the time I reached the hibiscus
they were perched in. Further down the road collected some hibiscus flowers to
replace the previous collection destroyed by mold. Close by I spotted a large Clusea
rosea flowering and decided to scramble up the steep uphill road
embankment in sandals immediately after a downpour. Needless to say, it was a
muddy blunder. The ferns covering the embankment had prickles, too. During the
brief ascent, I was thankful for Puerto Rico's lack of poisonous snakes and
insects, otherwise my body would have likely been found in an embarrassingly
conspicuous lump next to the road. As it happens, I retrieved a Clusia specimen
and uneventfully arrived back at the field station.
Hoping to impress one of my fellow volunteers with
a picture of the hummingbird mentioned earlier, I hastily uploaded the digital
images of my excursion.
Ravenia urbanii
I began to turn my computer around so he could view
the photo, identify the species of hummingbird, whereupon I would divulge my
splendid observation and conclusion.
"That's not a hummingbird. It's a tody,"
said Gordon with all the tact of a teacher to their kindergarten student.
Hirtella rugosa (I've witnessed hummingbirds visit these flowers)
Like I said, I'm no ornithologist. Of course, the tody had been
mentioned by everyone I work with at least once, yet I assumed it to be
something completely different. Based on this assumption, I synthesized an
explanation out relatively little information and my ignorance got the better
of me. My idea was completely drained of merit after Seth, a recent masters
student, mentioned he was pretty sure migrating hummingbirds don’t really stop
at Puerto Rico.
Clusia rosea
After checking in a couple bird books, I was comforted to know the
emerald-throated hummingbird does migrate to the northern Bahamas and Puerto
Rico, albeit rarely. If mid October does have significantly higher number of
plants with red tubular blooms, it is not likely connected to the southern
migration of hummingbirds. If it weren’t for a healthy helping of humble pie
now and then, the Sun could still be orbiting a 7,000 year old Earth that never
hosted dinosaurs. 
