I was sitting on the porch this afternoon watching the hummingbirds come and go, and I began to wonder what it must be like to live at that speed. They can be hovering in one spot, and suddenly they've been teleported all the way across the yard. From my angle they seem as manic as Sally Field's ER character on one of her "good" days.
But from the bird's point of view, I imagine that all the rest of the world seems to be moving in slow motion. It's like living in a music video, where you're the only one going at normal speed. What a view they must get from the perspective! Nothing can surprise you if everything takes place so slowly that you can see it almost before it happens.
On the other hand, hummingbirds are so tiny that the view they get of their surroundings is limited. It's not so much an awesome panorama as a virtual reality game set inside a phone booth. Whatever you see, you have to remember that there's infinitely more you can't see.
It's doubtful birds realize that. They're content to see what they see, because they see it so clearly. I'm aware enough of the confining nature of my own environment that I often look for ways to expand it, and see more. Thus, 200 TV channels. Likewise, an absurdly long list of online journals that I read with varying degrees of regularity — and one of my own that I write with absurd regularity.