Slowing Down the Thoughts

I know I haven't been writing much. I go through phases where nothing sounds right, or picking out the words seems too tedious.

At first, I started to ignore the urge to write this morning, but something caught my eye, and it was too remarkable to ignore.

I was sitting on the back porch, watching as the first rays of the sun peeked through the trees. The air was clear, the temperature a little to warm to call brisk, and it was completely still.

The hummingbird feeder appeared as a brilliant globe of energy trapped between two red disks. As I watched, a female hummingbird came to feed; obviously a straggler, since she refused to perch on the edges.

Her wings were a dim blur, and the sunlight made it appear as if she was surrounded by field of light. As she fed, her tiny tongue darted into the feeder multiple times per second; tiny electrical discharges as she fed on pure energy.

She fed for a half dozen seconds, backed away, returned for another taste, and was gone; a small streak disappearing into the morning sky.

I had no camera, so the event was only etched into my memory; the words a poor attempt to document a sight too unique to allow to slip through the cracks of my thoughts.