They are heard before they are seen. Flying by at neck-breaking speed; with the steady hum of their rapidly beating wings; they always seem to be in a hurry; sampling a sip of nectar here, and another sip there.
Suddenly a competitor arrives and the battle begins. Zooming up and down through the air, facing off like arch enemies. Noisily defending their territory, long beaks clanking against each other in moments. They battle, until one of them leaves.
Why can’t they share all the flowers in the garden?