I remember fireflies and moonrise.
These were the two things that I would wait for, make time for. I would look at the exact direction from where the moon would rise and judging by the soft glow emanating from behind the thickly forested hills, know exactly when it would make a glowing appearance. In the darkness of those times, where the perfection of night could be observed in all its splendor, when the hills were not inhabitated and street lights didn’t exist, it was the perfect setting to observe natures night life, especially stars and fireflies.
Surrounded by night sounds of crickets and distant cries of jackals, I would settle myself on the corner of the railing and support my back against the wall. Floating life forms, glowing, would glide by, they would congregate near some self-chosen bush or tree and do their magical dance, mesmerising me completely.
It was an isolated setting, yet one never felt alone. I made a lasting bond with my self during those silent obervations of nature. It was like the body ceased to have a boundary and just merged with its surroundings. And therein, I became the very breeze that moved the leaves on the trees at will or the moonlight that painted the landscape in a surreal silver hue.
Between the rising moon and the lively fireflies, the pressure cooker would whistle its lonesome call. Bringing images of a steam engine rolling through a desolate landscape, reminding me that dinner would not be too long now… I would get down from my perch and head downstairs after having inhaled a huge dose of solitude and beauty that would last a life time….
Todays glorious moonrise still reminds me of this…Of course, the only constant is the beauty of the moon in the distant sky. The setting from which I observe it now is altered beyond recognition…..