(Posted earlier, written the night before)

A Look in…

I took a walk to the market yesterday. It was light when I left, had been raining. It was steamy. There was a man standing at the canal, watching the workmen on bamboo scaffolding on a roof nearby. The sky was bright and hazy with pollution carried in by the wind that had long since died away. The sun is not out but its heat is felt as if a heavy hand is pressing down on every shoulder. Somewhere on the other side of the mountains thunder roared although light blue skies hung above them now. Water was emptying itself out into the brown muck that fills the canal on days such as these and workers were cutting away the green mass of life that grows there on a Sunday afternoon.

There was a bird I could not see well on a wire that hung low over a field filled with seeds hidden in mud and rain. He sang a song to me and as I stared up at him and walked on, wondering all the while what kind of bird he was, he sang his song again. I heard children near a house where I have never seen children before. I had perhaps seen the little man who lives there three times in as many years but today there was life all around that tin house. Could they be grand children visiting the little man? Perhaps they are a brother’s flock. They are calling out now, ducking and hiding, laughing and running. There is much life there today.

Ahead a little boy with bare feet ran across the bridge accompanied by short men with brown skin walking languidly in the afternoon heat. Young boys on bikes ride past me. Close to the tunnel, a dog is barking ferociously at a tall white man riding past on his bike. I am pleased to pass and be ignored completely by the same dog. He knows me now, I have passed by this way many times before; he knows my step; my smell; my face. I step there, move here, miss my turn, turn around and find my way to the little store. (This is all practice you know) Old ladies are everywhere. They stand at gates and at windows talking to invisible voices (other old ladies?).

Mango, plums and bananas in my basket; shall I try the “Rye” bread or go for the light wheat? There is Kimchi and Shin Ramon for the afternoons when I am home now jam and bread for the guests coming tomorrow. I am forgetting something important. I can feel it, what is it? What is it that I am forgetting?

Walking home with backpack full, hands full, the sun has faded away and the lights from cities and villages in slopes and dips fill the air all around. Dogs are running. Workers have all gone home and I am on my way to a tile house of yellow. I am thinking of you the entire time. I am desperate for you to see this; to feel the heat; smell the water buffalo; feel the green. I am walking, soaking in the day and thinking of you every step of the way. Fancy that. You are here aren’t you? You are invited anytime ok. But after March I may have moved away so please consider joining me sometime soon, if only for awhile…missing you all…me