Wisdom of the hummingbirds

Bothered and befuddled by a host of pesky questions, I sought help amongst the hummingbirds, whose ability to stay afloat in the worst of storms I heartily admire.

"Tell me," I asked a handsome ruby-throated fellow perched on planter, "do you think I ought to go ahead and lock in the interest rate for our mortgage refinance or would I be better off waiting a few days to see whether the rates go down any lower?"

But he was too busy chasing off another hummingbird to pay any heed to my query.

"And what about my fall composition class that has been decoupled from its Mass Media learning community?" I asked. "Should I keep the same textbook or order something more appropriate for a room full of STEM students?"

The hummies hovered, sipped, and buzzed but offered no response.

"Is it time to paint the spare bedroom? Or leave it as it for the sake of posterity?" I felt certain the hummies would show interest in this question since the walls in the spare bedroom echo their ruby hues, but no--they were busy competing for space at the feeder.

"You don't really care at all about my concerns, do you?" I asked, but the only response I received was a buzz and a click as the hummies zipped off into the trees.

Not much use, those hummingbirds. Not much use at all.