wisdom
Blurry-eyed, you stumble along a wooden walkway to the place you agreed to gather. The biting cold is a stark contrast to your bed’s embrace. Beside you is your porter, asking quiet questions you barely register. Quick flashes of his torch illuminate the bushes around you, and you remember where you are. You thank him as you reach the firepit in the main lodge. You’re the first here, eager to meet the day. The flickering warmth clears the mist that clouds your mind, and smoke stings your eyes into focus. Where yesterday there was a
view over the river, now there is only a wall of darkness. Above you, stars glisten in their eternal mystery. The throaty crescendo of a lone spurfowl reverberates through the air. You rush to the edge of the deck, as if you might see it. Now that you’re listening, you notice the steady hum of cicadas. The spurfowl calls out again. Soon, a different bird signals the oncoming dawn. Then another, moments later. Before long, you’re listening to a chorus of chirps, clicks, and trills. For a while, you can’t tell them apart until
Previous spread Sunlight, steam, and smoke meet to mark the morning. Left The closer you look, the more you see the Earth itself is breathing.
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