Today arises into air cooled by yesterday's downpours. The sky a blue haze, creeping clouds defining hilltops, white mists clambering up from unseen valleys creating an impression of lines where the lower hills rise, contributing to a sense of darkened summits. Wind swaying trees, chasing occasional puffs of white across the brightening blue. It's one of those days where the world feels as if it's an alien place, the head clogged with the last dregs of the dreaming night, the world behind a mask which even a third cup can't remove.


Off to the mountains, to walk clarity into thought, replace the cacophony of the city with the sound of birdsong, watch as copper coloured lizards scurry across sight and rustle the dry leaves scattered and gathered along the side of the path. These places where self is both lost and found, the world closer and more distant, clouds forming between branches, distanced voices beneath footsteps, chants accompany me from hidden temples, the scent of spring flowers mixing with incense from small shrines...


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