No torrential rain today, mostly blue skies and beautiful cloud formations.Living right on the edge of Hoi An town has its perks. It’s quiet most of the time, especially at night. We only hear toads (or frogs) and crickets and the occasional dog bark. I don’t know if I’ve lived this rural since spending time with my grandparents who were farmers in rural Sweden.
This morning, after Yoga + Qigong and fruit and coffee breakfast, I rode a bike on a long stretch of concrete road that runs through two large rice fields. Much of the area looks like it’s a patches of loosely interconnected swamps.
At the far end of the path I was riding on, I came across a memorial plaque about and a tomb for a Japanese tradesman that had spent considerable time in Hoi An during the middle of the 15th century. Someone had laid out fresh fruit on the foot end of the tomb and on the other side were two young Vietnamese men fishing.
I’m in a contemplative mode right now. It’s a sobering, existential and confusing phase all at once. Been through it several times before throughout my life. Just not recently. And certainly not at this age.