Wispy Things

IMG_2142Once in awhile, when I turn off the well-worn, beaten main road and head down the path towards the rice fields and pool, I forget what treasures will greet me: relics of split gates, abandoned half-built houses, all covered in vines, abundantly and lusciously overgrown with arnica bushes, blooming heliconia, banana and IMG_2150coconut trees. I feel as if I’ve stumbled into a Balinese secret garden.

And then, when I emerge, and spy the tiny bunches of frangipani buds, just waiting to explode into their finest colors, hankering to burst out of their patiently swirled-in petals, I’m almost certain that if I hand around a little while, they will magically unfurl in front of my very eyes.

But the pool beckons. So I swim lIMG_2179aps – this time with the briefest company of 2 French couples, who enjoy a 5-minute dip in the cool water before setting off for a stroll through the fields.

And then, dried and dressed, I retrace my steps, and my attention is suddenly split: a trio of hooper girls flip-flopping their way down the steps towards another hip-swaying day of you-know-what, comparing notes from a vegan meal last night.

But out of the corner of my eye, I notice some wispy thingIMG_2178s. They’ve grown – or settled, or mysteriously appeared – on the shoulder-height side of the rice terrace just above.

It’s no contest, the wispy things win out. I am enthralled, mystified, called in to inspect more closely. Not quite cobwebs, but seemingly so, they punctuate the hill side with a cottIMG_2177ony-soft appearance, water drops, blades of grass piercing through the gauze-like substance. I imagine them too fragile to touch, yet too ephemeral to ignore.

I am quite simply mesmerized. By the time I’ve de-hypnotized myself out of the wispy-thing trance, the hoopers have already disappeared down the path. Not even a farmer is in sight. I’m at a loss, so grateful for this divinely inspired manifestation… and wanting so much to share its  playful yet delicate beauty – with someone…



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