. . . but I can see you, I can see you now.

I love sitting motionless at the break of day, holding a warm mug of coffee- it’s steam fogging my view as I peer out a door wide open. I simply watch the life go by- not 20 feet before me. I find peace in the passing and going of the natives here, for their walking steps are never quick. I like to imagine what they might be dreaming up, where they might be going, what song they might be singing in their mind. Could it ever be the same that I am singing? A sip of my coffee and I take it all in. This is my morning ritual.

A young boy, whose rusty bike is much too big for his body, pedals strenuously and happily across my view. Few moments pass without a sign of life. A bird lands effortlessly on a power line, a thirsty dog searches for relief from the heat, and the wind hypnotizes the great foliage that is Thailand’s own. It’s all beautiful, I think merely for beauty’s sake.

Occasionally a motor bike whizzes by- piled high with both goods and offspring. I smile at the familiarity of it all. And it’s comforting being an audience, remembering that the world doesn’t revolve around little old me. I need this. And I find that each morning, such silence is a gift.