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evilsnowswan · 7 years

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BREAK | Based on [X] and [X] | [Playlist]

Summary: [Rumbelle Surfers!AU]

In the township of Torquay, Victoria, Australia, gateway to the Great Ocean Road - or rather on the beautiful shore of Bells Beach, a renowned surf spot – Belle French is a surfer girl who no longer surfs. Until, one evening, she does and the events following that decision leave her with more questions than answers and a reluctant new acquaintance, who might or might not be willing to help her unravel the knots.

Rating: G - for now || Chapter: 3/? || Chapters: [Chapter 1][Chapter 2]>>[Chapter 3] || AO3 Link: [Read on AO3]

A/N: Wow, it’s been forever and a half. I just can’t write about beaches and surfers when the ground is covered in snow and I’m freezing half to death. Well, spring is back and so is this story.

Chapter 3

Friday night. High tide. Swamped with customers, the Crazy Sea Horse buzzed and hummed with conversation and laughter.

Waves of new people, impatient and ravenous, kept rolling in from the street in sets of 3, 5, 10 at a time - tourists and locals alike - expecting to be seated and fed immediately, even when it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes and a working brain that the place was overcrowded already and threatening to burst at the seams at any moment.

Everyone, their grandmother, and the dog had apparently decided that tonight was the night to be out and about. It was good for business, of course, to be expected even - on a warm spring night like this. But the crowds - how they swarmed the streets, the beach, the pubs, like hungry, flashy bees, wasps, hornets - they made her angry and her head sting.

Plating up her next order, Belle zigzagged ketchup and hollandaise on poached eggs and fries with more vigor than would have been strictly necessary, then placed the hot plate under the heating lamp and dinged the bell.

The sound cut through her like a cold steel knife.

Her head hot and humming low, she didn’t wait for the plate to vanish, but went back to chopping up onions and herbs straight away, her eyes fixed on the next batch of eggs on the stove. There was no time for a loo break - or a nervous breakdown.

Their dock printer had run out of paper over half an hour ago, but she couldn’t have made it to the office and back to her kitchen in time - unless she cloned herself first. Ignoring the intermittent high-pitched beeping and her full bladder, Belle pushed through the chaos and backlog of queued up orders, holding her breath and crossing her legs.

The never ending string of demands bellowed through her little window rang in her ears and made her hands tingle. Juggling her pans and pots, bowls and knives, a cloud of steam and spices filled her face and crept deep into her lungs.

Turning her head and ignoring the sharp pain in her neck, Belle stopped to cough into her arm, then straightened her back and tightened her grip on the slippery handles.

“Madness!” Will dumped the dirty dishes on the floor, yanked open the dishwasher, and pushed them inside.

Bussing was the pits. But even bussing on nights from hell didn’t stop this guy from whistling Nova’s latest hits as he went about his cheerful business.

“Behind,” he added - after a beat and as an afterthought - as though she hadn’t already felt him bustling about behind her, and wasn’t feeling his eyes linger on her now either, his easy smile prickling hot and rough on the back of her neck.

Sand and golden honey.

Belle stiffened and turned, her best plastic smile in place.

His face fell a little before he caught it mid-drop and hastily rearranged his expression. “Shit, Peaches. You okay?”

Plum, not peach.

She held his gaze.

“Busy, sweaty, greasy.” Smiling was tedious. Why did people do it? Belle wiped her hands on her apron. “The usual.”

The way he was watching her - carefully, cautiously, searching, but not asking - not out loud anyway, made her suddenly awfully aware. Aware of her body, and what it might tell him, what it might tell the world about her. And in that moment, she hated him for it.

“Need a hand? — Or five?” He stepped closer and peered over her shoulder. “That smells divine.”

She could see the question forming on his face before he asked it.

“How about we share a plate out back later?”

Belle wanted to tell him no. Tell him there was no time. Tell him she’d used her break already.

“Alright,” was what she said instead, hands brushing her hair away from her sticky forehead under her cap, her thoughts safely bubble-wrapped and tucked away for later. ‘Yes’ was so much easier than no. ‘Yes’ meant no further questions asked and no more lies told. Lies she had to keep track of.

“Or, I could make you some now-” she began, hopeful, but he cut her off with a grin and a soft shake of the head.

Cold sweat trickled down her spine.

“Nah, I’ll wait for you. Got more rounds to make.” Stepping backwards, he tapped his cap and pointed at the roaring dishwasher. “People are pigs.”

“Yeah. And you’re their dish pig.”

Salty grease burned on her cracked lips as she ran her tongue over them. It only made the burn worse.

He laughed, picked up an empty crate. “In a few, chef piglet.”

The door swung shut behind him, and Belle exhaled through her nose. “Right.”

Orders kept coming, kept her on her feet all night. She had to go with the flow, think less and move quicker, but her mind was elsewhere and she wasn’t fast enough, which earned her another nasty burn across her palm.

The smell of burned flesh.

Belle barely flinched and carefully lowered the heat. A few blisters were no excuse for a ruined meal and a dissatisfied customer.

Not that it mattered, she thought, poking at a blister with the index finger of her other hand. What was another scar anyway? She put her palm under cold running water and covered it with a more-or-less clean dish towel wrap after. From the neck down, there was hardly any part of her that wasn’t scarred. One more wouldn’t make a difference.

She had once read a story where your life got tattooed onto your skin, all your small victories and big mistakes out there for everyone to see forever, and the thought hadn’t scared her then, seemed strangely romantic even - in that edgy kind of way that made her heart beat faster. She had gotten her first kiss that summer. Days were bright and endless.

The night went on, her shift ended. Will hadn’t come back to make good on his promise. Sometimes - when they were working the same shift, and he was behind the bar - he fixed her a coffee. Chocolate mocha. Without asking. And she took it wordlessly - for it would have been rude not to - paying in fake smiles and polite nods.

She didn’t have any friends, and neither did she want them, but a cup of coffee every now and then was innocent enough. It didn’t mean anything. A hot drink in a paper cup was just that.

Belle untied her apron, balled it up, and threw it on the laundry pile in the back.

In the beginning, she had always made sure all her orders were complete, dishes and laundry done, and her kitchen up to code. She would have grabbed clipboard and sharpie, and headed into the cool room, checking every pasta container, homemade sauce, and pre-made dessert, and replacing everything that wouldn’t have passed a surprise health inspection. She had been happy staying past closing time, by herself, when the Sea Horse was quiet and the lights low, following instructions from the manual, adding her own little twists to the trusted recipes and enjoying the still and calm in her head.

She hadn’t made rounds or looked at the manual in a while. So far they hadn’t had any complaints.

Belle took off her cap, pulled off the blue bandana she had been wearing underneath to keep the sweat away from her face, and freed her hair from the elastic hair tie where she’d scraped it back into a ponytail earlier - to run her fingers through it and comb out some of the grease.

“Hey, Peaches!”

Belle flinched so hard the jolt ran up her arms and caused a painful pileup between her shoulder blades.

“Sorry.” Will eyed her through the window, one eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to startle ya. Uh—” He blinked. Belle saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “A bunch of us are going to Nana L’s to grab a bite. Want to come? You could ride shotgun with me or hob in with Rob - if you don’t mind the detour. He’s picking up Mar first.”

Belle’s heart raced. Had it jumped out of her chest and made a run for it, it would have beaten them there. She clasped her hands together in front of her body, pressing down on the dish towel and concentrating hard on taking slow steadying breaths - in through the nose, wait seven seconds, then out of the mouth again - while making it look like she was simply taking a moment to think about it.

“Some brekkie would be great!” Her voice was thick as pancake batter, the enthusiasm in it oh so sweet, but sticky like gum and gluing her jaws shut. “Oh. No. Wait. It’s Saturday.” Belle cast her eyes down apologetically, biting her lip, and then releasing it with a soft popping sound. “Arianna needs the car on Saturdays. Next time?”

“Sure.” He looked disappointed for a second, but rallied in the next, and gave her a radiant smile.

In another life, she would have liked everything about that smile: The way it seemed to start in his eyes rather than touch them last, turning bleak brown into warming chestnut. The way it revealed his very white teeth, stark contrast to thick eyebrows and tanned skin, and made him look like summer spent someplace exotic (although he was a Brit). How his dimples deepened, and the tips of his slightly protruding ears blushed - even when his cheeks did not.

“Sorry.” Belle said, and part of her actually was.

She wasn’t that girl anymore, though, and her clenching stomach and closing throat wouldn’t have allowed any other answer but ‘no’ to get past her lips.

“No worries,” Will said. “See you Monday then?”

“Yeah.”

“If you change your mind-” He winked at her, held up a hand in farewell, and vanished from sight.

Belle heard him wish Leroy and Ashley good morning on his way out. His footfalls faded away. She was alone again, shivering in her black cotton shirt despite the stale humidity in the room. Alone with her heartbeat in her ears, and ants crawling up her legs. Alone, but for the distant sounds of chairs scraping on linoleum, the hurried swish-swashing of mops pushed back and forth across it - and clanking against table legs ever so often, and the little radio blaring out the same ten songs over and over again as people across town started their day, brushing their teeth, drinking their coffees, and taking their kids to school.

Spring was almost over, days were getting warmer and warmer. Soon schools would be out, and the beach would be packed with children, families, and tourists. Not that she intended ever going back there again. Not after last night. Not without her board.

Her mother’s board.

Belle punched her own forearm hard. How could she have lost it?! It had been such an idiotic, reckless thing to do. She knew she was lucky to be alive, but it didn’t feel that way.

Christmas was fast approaching, and the thought alone made her yearn for the dark void at the bottom of the sea.

It was warm at Christmas time. She used to wear shorts and t-shirts almost all year long.

Belle tugged on the sleeves of her shirt, pulling them over her hands, and blinked away the blurry spots until the wall tiles were separate squares again and she could count them, starting at the top left corner and making her way down to the bottom right - where tiles met counter and appliances. Various utensils and kitchen helpers forced her to guess more than once, which made her a little uneasy.

She had been slammed by her board and was one big bruise. Not a pretty sight. Not to mention the old scars and fresh cuts. They wept and itched underneath her clothing, stuck to the fabric, and drove her insane. Nobody would have guessed it, though. Belle made sure of that. Heavy duty makeup covered up all traces on her face, and her baggy pants and loose-fitting shirt did the rest.

When she woke up, it had hurt so bad that she had almost stayed home. Calling in sick wasn’t an option, however, and more trouble than it was worth, so she had dragged herself out of bed regardless, taken a handful of pills and gulped them down with two large glasses of ice cold water, then tracked down the car keys.

It didn’t matter. None of it.

She grabbed the front of her shirt and smelled it. Cold fish and chips wrappings. Musk.

She never wore board shorts and tank tops anymore.

Her clothes rail was large hoodies, long-sleeved shirts - to be worn under her work polos, and pants: two black ones - for work, and one faded jeans. She also owned a pair of sneakers, black canvas shoes, and a couple thongs - at various stages of falling apart. All her underwear was practical and cheap, black or nude colors, and stuffed into the bedside cabinet drawer.

She owned no books that could have claimed their rightful place there. The books were back — at the house. They weren’t hers anymore.

The only thing she had was that board. And now it was gone. Broken beyond repair. Dead and lost to her forever.

Belle ran a hand through her hair. She stared at the tiles.

A knock on the door broke through her thoughts, and had her jump out of her skin for the second time in what felt like both a few seconds and half a century.

Belle’s heart thumped, her belly churning as she worried about who was outside her door and what they could possibly want her for at this hour.

“Mira?” Ashley knocked again, but didn’t enter. Probably because the last time she had and caught her off guard, Belle had dropped a large jar of green peas, and they had spent the next thirty minutes on their hands and knees to collect them off the floor and sweep up the broken glass.

“Maristela wants to know if you could, um, swap shifts with me next week? Friday?”

Belle fought the urge to sneer her reply. Maybe not everyone else did, but Maristela knew she only worked nights. It had been part of their deal. Belle would cover each and every shift Maristela needed her to - as long as they weren’t during the day, and she didn’t have to leave her kitchen and interact with their guests.

Maristela never asked for reasons and Belle was grateful.

Her co-workers, on the other hand, were another matter entirely. Some more nosy than others, by now everyone on the team had more or less accepted Belle’s preference for odd hours, simply assuming inherent oddness and a bad case of crippling shyness to be behind it. It suited her just fine. Shyness was as good an explanation as any, and Belle led them to believe it was her introverted nature that had her dodge whatever was on their social calendars, and give the break room a wide berth.

The break room was where she had to go next - if she wanted her car keys. To get there she would have to open that door and deal with Ashley.

Belle sighed and rubbed at her eye, then reached for the knob.

“Hi, Ashley,” she said. “She did? I must have missed her earlier - I’m sure she would have said something. Next Friday, you say?”

Ashley nodded, and Belle let her face fall.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t make Friday next week. I got this exam first thing Monday, and I really need the weekend to cram.” Belle lifted a shoulder and let it fall, looking as sorry as possible… for the inconvenience and all that. Girls like Ashley didn’t scare her, but they could make your life difficult if they felt wronged and wanted to.

Play it dumb, but be nice about it. Grovel a little, say your ‘I’m so sorry’s’ and ‘oh my god, really’s’, and placate.

Ashley pulled a face. “Oh no, Mira. I was counting on you!” She heaved a dramatic sigh.

“You could ask Will,” Belle suggested. “He’ll swap with you, I’m sure.”

“You think?”

“Totally.”

Ashley pondered her suggestion in pouty silence for a moment, but then decided she liked the idea, offering a sly, suggestive smile that made Belle’s stomach turn.

“He’d do it for you, I’m sure.”

Belle left her face blank and clueless. She wasn’t taking that bait. No way.

“He’s always around that kitchen of yours, hovering by the window and all.” Ashley’s eyes narrowed, and she lowered her voice to a girly whisper. The kind Belle hated. “I think he likes you!”

She shook her head. “He’s… nice. That’s all.”

Was that pity in Ashley’s eyes?

“If you say so, Mira.” She smiled a knowing smile - even when she didn’t know the first thing about anything. Girls like Ashley never did. They only thought they did with that unwavering, insufferable confidence. “What was it you’re studying again?”

Belle almost choked on her own spit and had to clear her throat twice - which gave her time to think.

“Cooking, right?” Ashley prompted.

The word you’re looking for is Gastronomy, Belle thought. Or catering trade, maybe. “Close,” she said. “First year Nutrition and health at VU.”

“Same difference really.” Ashley rolled her eyes, but then smiled at her. “Your chicken parm and burgers are so good, though!” She exclaimed, wide eyed. In all her time at the Sea Horse, Belle had never seen her eat more than a salad, snack on some fruit, or finish a whole bread roll by herself, exclaiming how full she felt instead, and how good everything was. Didn’t the others want to try it? Have the rest of her fries?

“Thanks!” Belle smiled back sweetly. “You should try the avocado ‘n’ beef next time. We only put it on the menu last week, but I think it’s a keeper.”

“You bet!” Ashley beamed at her. “That sounds delish.” She fake-rubbed her non-existent belly. “Too bad the kitchen is closed already.”

“The kitchen closes at ten. All orders must be placed before that time,” Belle recited in a stern voice that made Ashley giggle and raise her hands in front of her in surrender.

“I know, I know!” She laughed.

Belle tried not to flinch when she touched her arm.

“Hey. Don’t worry about the shift. I’ll make it work.”

“Yeah, I’m real sorry.”

“It’s fine. Really.” She yawned and stretched her arms above her head, flexing her fingers, and Belle suddenly remembered her own heavy tiredness. The drugs were wearing off, her body ached all over, and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and not come back out for another decade or so.

She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“We should both go and get some sleep,” Ashley said. “Coffee won’t fix whatever we got.”

She looked at her for a reaction to the punch line, but Belle missed her cue. The frustrating high-pitched ringing in her right ear was back.

Water damage, wave collateral. Just like the rest of her.

Ashley cocked her head and gave her the once-over, scrutinizing her face in a way that made the heat rush to Belle’s cheeks.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Ashley said slowly, in a low, friendly voice. She almost sounded concerned. Almost. “But you look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks!” Belle forced a laugh. “It’s been a long night, you know.”

Ashley nodded. Her pocket buzzed.

“Your ride?” Belle asked. “You know what - why don’t I get the rest of your supplies … I’m headed to the back anyway. I could close up for you, if you want?”

“Really?! That would be great! Thanks! — You’re a lifesaver!”

Ashley hugged her, and Belle wanted to scream.

Then she pulled out her phone to text back whoever was waiting for her outside.

She wanted to turn around and leave to get her stuff, but Ashley held her back by the arm.

Belle bit her cheek to keep quiet.

“Oh, Mira! I almost forgot! —” Ashley rummaged in her other pocket, and produced a crinkled piece of paper, which she handed to Belle. “Customer left this for you. I only now remembered.”

She swooped in for air kisses, doing the fake cheek thing Belle wouldn’t be caught dead trying with anyone. It happened so fast, it didn’t leave her time to panic, so she resorted to just not moving at all until it was over, her steady smile lifted like a shield.

Ashley’s phone buzzed again.

“Gotta go! Bye!”

Belle stood and stared - at nothing in particular - until the spell broke, and she felt she could move again. She smoothed out the paper ball in her fist, and brought the note up to her eyes to read it. The words were smudged, or maybe that was her tired eyes playing tricks on her.

She frowned and fixed the first word to throw focus.

The paper read:

Dear… Ms. Mirabelle French… , We would like to inform you that your latest order/repair is now ready for collection. Please contact: Marco - Driftwood Inc. -

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle au #belle french #rumplestiltskin #surfer!au #my fic #fic: break

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superbearfun · 7 years

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Happy Hummer Season! Soon the buzzing and whirring sounds of rapidly beating wings will be filling the air in our backyards once again. The hummingbirds return!

Hummingbirds are a joy to observe in the backyard as they hover, flit and fly about, and will very soon be arriving back to summer homes in North America from winter stays in Southern Mexico, Costa Rica, Panama and other regions of Central America. Hanging a feeder to greet their arrival in spring will help immensely as they arrive thirsty and in quick need of nourishment following their long migrations northward.

To find out when to expect the arrival of regional hummingbirds in your area, check out the Audubon Guide.

Providing a hummingbird feeder in your yard helps to renourish the little hummers quickly and get them off to a healthier start for the coming breeding season after their arduous travels northward, and can be both a source of entertainment and a healthy learning experience for the children in your family as they learn more about nature.

Hummingbirds need to consume several times their body weight in food intake each day and are necessarily always on the lookout for flowering plants to quench their thirst and maintain energy. Flowering plants for the hummingbirds are much more numerous and available during the summer months, so providing an early supplementary food source with a hummingbird feeder can help them get thru leaner spells in springtime when flowers and natural food sources are not yet as numerous.

There is no need to worry about supplementing their diet with a feeder and distracting hummingbirds from natural food sources, as they will continue to seek out and consume plant nectar, small insects and tree saps to prepare for breeding season and then in feeding their young in the nest.

Single Hummingbird Feeder

To select the best feeder, choose one that can be easily cleaned on the inside to prevent contamination and illness for the birds, and one that is brightly colored with lots of red to get their attention and attract them to your feeder.

If you have few hummingbirds in your area, completely filling the feeder is not necessary, to not waste the nectar mixture. As the season progresses, filling the feeder to the brim may be more advisable as the birds will be visiting more often to drink and the feeders will probably be even busier with greater numbers in the summer heat.

If there are a large number of hummers in your area, a larger feeder with a greater number of feeding ports can help to reduce territorial conflicts brought about by the hummingbirds’ natural territoriality and competitiveness to guard the feeding source, by allowing more birds to access the feeder.

Large Size Feeder with Multiple Feeding Ports

Feeders can be inexpensive and plain, or very decorative and ornamental. The hummingbirds only care about the nectar and happily leave design choices to the humans’ personal tastes. But it is important for any feeder to contain a good deal of bright red coloration. Hummingbirds are naturally attracted to brightly colored flowers, including yellows, oranges, pinks and purples, but are drawn to red much more than any other color as it signals a food source to the tiny bird, so they naturally associate the color red with food.

There is no need to purchase expensive hummingbird packaged food mixes in the store, as a perfect nectar mix can be easily and quickly prepared in your home kitchen using only sugar and water as the ingredients.

Medium Sized Hummingbird Feeder

Four Port Hummingbird Feeder

Prepare the nectar supplement mixture using only Refined White Sugar, as honey can promote dangerous and harmful fungal growth and should never be used. In addition, organic, natural and raw sugars may all contain excessive levels of iron which can be harmful to the birds. Plain, white refined sugar is sucrose, which when mixed with water, comes the closest to matching the chemical composition of naturally occurring nectar in the wild.

With a brightly colored red feeder, there is no need to add red food coloring to the nectar mixture, as the chemicals in food coloring can be harmful to the hummingbirds.

Small Dish Hummingbird Feeder

To prepare the nectar mixture, simply mix 1/4 cup of refined white sugar in 1 cup of boiling water until the sugar is all dissolved, a ratio of 1 part sugar to 4 parts water. Let the mixture cool and then fill the feeder. Simple as that.

Red Glass Bottle Hummingbird Feeder

Red Glass Antique Style Bottle Hummingbird Feeder

Globe Shaped Glass Hummingbird Feeder

Ruby-red Glass Hummingbird Feeder

Horizontal Hummingbird Feeder

When filled, hang the feeder outside, preferably about head high so you do not need a ladder to reach it for cleaning and refilling, and also in the shade to keep the nectar from spoiling as quickly as it would in the full sun. The nectar will serve as a healthy and beneficial supplement to the birds’ natural nectar diet in springtime, and then all summer long as well, providing the birds with an extra and welcome energy boost at the end of long, hot and dry summer days.

Extra Large Hummingbird Feeder with Multiple Feeding Ports

Keeping the feeders freshly filled and out when fall arrives and having the extra nectar nourishment available will help your little neighborhood hummingbirds restrengthen after breeding season is finished, boosting energy and helping them to prepare for their long migration back to southern wintering grounds. Feeders in the fall will also provide welcome and needed nourishment to migrating birds passing thru on their way south. Because of the influx and numbers of migrating birds, putting additional hummingbird feeders out in the fall can be very helpful in providing needed energy for all.

Window Suction Mount Hummingbird Feeder

Extra nectar mix may be stored covered in the refrigerator for up to two weeks in a clean glass or plastic container. If the mix in the feeder becomes cloudy or mucky, it should be discarded and the feeder cleaned. The feeder should be cleaned regularly every few days, especially during hot weather to keep it free from mold and mildew, as nectar is a food and will spoil.

Feeders can be cleaned using various sized bottle brushes and by soaking them in a mixture of 1 part vinegar and two parts hot water, then thoroughly rinsing to keep the birds healthy.

If black mold is detected, soaking for an hour in a bleach mixture of 1/4 cup bleach to a gallon of water can be done, followed by thorough rinsing. Mold should not be an issue if the feeders are cleaned regularly.

To control and keep away uninvited wasps and bees which may visit hummingbird feeders, avoid choosing a feeder with the color yellow on it, as yellow is known to attract them. Some feeders have built-in water moats which protect against ants contaminating the nectar, and some have screens over openings which only allow the hummingbird’s long tongue to enter, keeping bees and other insects out.

For additional tips to prevent the problem of unwanted insect visitors, visit Control All Insects On Nectar Feeders. In years of feeding hummingbirds with two different types of feeders, we have never really had a big problem with uninvited guests.

Hummingbirds can be territorial, especially during breeding season, so there is no harm in hanging out more than one feeder, which may result in even more visitors to your yard. If possible and for the best results, hang additional feeders out of the line of sight from one to another to attract more birds and to diminish conflicts over territory.

Bottle Style Hummingbird Feeder

Adding native plants for your regional area, growing them in your garden and yard, will also help the hummingbirds by providing natural shelter and food, including a healthy environment for insects, which many are surprised to learn form an important part of the hummingbird’s diet during breeding season especially.

So, happy hummer season! Little Red Bear and I hope this little guide was helpful, and that both you and your family are able to experience the joys and delights of watching the amazing aerial displays and acrobatics of hummingbirds all summer long.

Thanks as always for your time and visiting. Very best wishes, and be the reason someone smiles today! — Jim (and Red!)

“Kindness is the sunshine in which virtue grows.” — Robert Green Ingersoll

“If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere.” — Vincent van Gogh

“The Adventures of Little Red Bear” Short Stories on Amazon.

Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages and Fitness Levels!

About an Uncommonly Special Bear and His Friends.

Tap Here For A Free Preview!

~ Every Day is Earth Day. Think Globally — Act Locally. ~

Welcoming and Attracting Hummingbirds to Your Yard Happy Hummer Season! Soon the buzzing and whirring sounds of rapidly beating wings will be filling the air in our backyards once again.

#Birds #children #conservation #Family #Hummingbird Feeders #Hummingbirds #nature #Nectar Recipe #wildlife

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