Yellowing

I practiced T'ai Chi Chih tonight while darkness crept into the forest. As the light faded the highlights of yellow and gold on tree leaves and undergrowth faded too. My surroundings filled with dark shadows and the only sounds I heard were swoops of wind and, perhaps, a slow, careful footstep or two deep in the forest.

Fall Equinox is barely a week away and, suddenly, everywhere I look I see yellow. Today's lunch theme was yellow and red: yellow curried rice, yellow spaghetti squash with red tomato sauce, and stir fried veggies that featured yellow squash, zucchini, onions, and tomatoes. And the forest around me gains more shadings of yellow with each passing cool day.

Early on in tonight's practice I saw a hummingbird feeding in the jewel weed, a delicate blossom of orange-yellow. I'm relieved to notice a few hummingbirds still flitting through the weeds and to the feeder. A week ago Frances found a hummingbird hanging upside down on a wire fence we'd dropped over a planter on our front step (goose proofing).

At first we thought the hummer was in torpor since we've heard of them losing consciousness or becoming dormant when their nectar is too cold for their body temp (is that correct?). Concerned, Frances picked the bird up and held it in her hands to warm it but soon discovered that it was dead, not resting.

I practiced my t'ai chi chih way into the darkness and then silently picked my way to the bird feeders and carried them into the house for the night. Another day comes to a close.