Pre-Monsoon

Ban Apinihan. The pre-monsoon.



A night of heavy rain and our dreams are a warm water log, the steady tap tap, the pre-monsoon jingle on the water clears the air and dissipates the heat. The morning sings to the drenching. The red earth of Babylon East is soaked in it and all plants in the garden are morning somnolent, as though drunk and barely able to stand.



The cloud cover over the city is low, some of the clouds are tinged in blue by the nascent sky, others are a dark grey, promising cooler days ahead. I go around the house turning off ceiling fans. The bullfrogs in the lake and garden pond are having a field day. Their heavy hearted, deep throated gnarling voices convulse through the dawn light.



I went downstairs to look in the pond and saw the milky white frog egg nebulae floating there. Another night of mating in old Vientiane town.



After days and days of torrid heat and sticky skin comes this cooling relief, this drenched respite. Birds and insects fly low. I breathe deeply, thankful to have been given life, this life, to taste the dark green garden and light blue grey sky. As Bowie once sang, “Somebody up there likes me”, although not seeing the full picture also means having zero inkling into the real scheming of the Universe.



Still, get it while you can.




https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpHA1hHCTi8