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12 September 2000

This is the noisiest night I've heard in... I don't know when. Peepers and cheepers and even an owl, if you can believe it, all singing and chatting each other up under the the clouded eye of the near-full moon, like a barful of convivial drunks. What a racket! (What a beautiful night!)

It's been a beautiful day. This morning I meant to practice my taijiquan for a full hour, but the breezes kept calling to me, saying, "Listen... look!"

In the garden there are September asters beginning to bloom, all pink and purple... And the maple tree is full of helicopters readying for flight... And the crows are playing tag in the apple trees... And the pines are dancing-- (Did you know that the Chinese word for pine is "sung"? "Soong" is soft; "sung" is pine. If you've ever watched a pine tree dance, you can see that those two Chinese words are probably related)...

I did practice. And it was going quite well-- before the breezes distracted me. I had found a new sense of balance, and I was mindful of shifting my weight properly from foot to foot, and that helped me to move oh! so slowly, so gracefully, like the heron... (Well, I thought so!) But the breezes were playful, and my heart felt light, and I listened... and I did look...

Beneath the pine tree, I saw the last of the blueberries ripening in the sun. And that was the end of practice.

I picked the blueberries, leaving nary a one. The fuzzy white caterpillar with the black whiskers watched me from a blueberry leaf and didn't seem to mind. I don't think he was interested in the fruit.

Luckily, I had a big slice of cornbread in the larder-- a parting gift from Ma the previous night-- and so, I made a pig of myself on sweet, sun-warm blueberries and cornbread réchauffé...

And that reminds me that I've been meaning to tell you about the blueberries. But, it's late, and I'm tired, and, for now, the blueberries will have to wait.

Good night. I hope you can sleep with all the racket.


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