I have hummingbird feeders on my patio, hanging from the bottom of the balcony above. They are made of red glass and have a wire rim at the bottom, so the birds can perch while feeding. I also have hummingbird-friendly plants in my garden and frequently see hummingbirds feeding on the blossoms outside.

These are Anna’s hummingbirds, common in the Bay Area, native to western coastal regions. They are tiny birds, with an iridescent bronze-green back, pale gray chest and belly, and green flanks. The bills are long, straight and slender. The male is the most colorful, with a crimson head and a flashy gorget, which is the patch of colorful feathers at the throat or upper breast. The female hummingbird also has a gorget, though not as bright.

Several weeks ago, I glanced at one of the feeders and noticed something new on the wire rim. Upon closer examination, I discovered it was a nest. Hummingbird nests are shaped like cups and in this case, about the size of a walnut. I was delighted to see this addition to the feeder, hanging just a few feet from my patio door.

Mama Bird wasn’t done building the nest. I watched her swoop around the edges of the balcony and the nearby downspout and realized that she was gathering spider silk. She would add that to the nest, along with wispy bits of plant fluff. The outside of the nest appears to have a coating of lichen. I haven’t examined it too closely, since I don’t want to frighten Mama Bird from her nest. I’m careful when I go out on my patio. She often flies away but she will sometimes stay on the nest when I step outside. Maybe she has decided I’m not a threat, though I imagine she’s giving me a wary look with those tiny eyes.

Hummingbirds typically lay a clutch of two eggs, about the size of small jelly beans. According to what I’ve read on the Internet, the eggs incubate for 21 days before they hatch. At first I noticed that Mama Bird had switched to feeding behavior, poking downward with her long slim bill. Then a few days ago I caught a glimpse of a baby, then two. Mama swoops in and out, seeking food for herself and her babies. She returns to the nest to pump partially digested food into the mouths of those two hungry chicks, naked without feathers, their little beaks turned upward. Then she settles into the nest on top of them, to keep them warm.

My research tells me it’s about three weeks from hatching to fledging, with the chicks growing feathers, getting big, then ready to leave the nest and fly. I hope both little babies make it. Mama is certainly doing her best, focused on her task.

I think of Mama Bird and I think of the three Ps—patience, persistence and perseverance. We’ve had some cold rainy weather lately, also wind. Yet she’s there, day and night, in all kinds of weather, sitting on that nest in between forays for food.

Patience, persistence and perseverance are watchwords for writers, too. We have an idea for a book or a story and we build our nest using plot, characters and setting, working on the project until it hatches, feeding it until it fledges and we can send it out into the world.

It may certainly take longer than it takes for Mama Bird and her chicks. Years, even. But we keep at it.

Remember what Emily Dickinson wrote.

Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul.