Park

Circles, resumed to the starting point of the trip back in Bangkok; 36 hours in the shadows of the khaosan road. An ending.

The last days in ban sang, already, seem like an old dream. The awareness that if I say anything nice about it I'll be told off in no uncertain terms...chortle at we two, old isolationists, traversed years and continents, once again contemplative of friendships, of the transience of geography and the continued flow of time which erodes only the uncertainty surrounding and leaves us the core upon which we build our citadels, upon which we nourish ourselves; sustenance for those days spent upon solitary paths...

And, in the worded winds of recent days it feels that, once again, it's time to find that shelter; drop that traditional reserve and shatter the arching heavens with shouts of delight...with a hopefully growing understanding of the value of such voices.

One day short of a year now; two days until the faerie price is paid, a year and a day...all that's beautiful has a price.

No doubt the telling off approaches upon the wind...