Village

And here, sat upon a porch above the nam ou river, guitar on lap, village life merging and weaving with insect song and lapping watersound creating music for reflective mood, here a pause. Watching clouds cling to the slopes fall through a panoply of tree green slide towards a bright band of sand, darker mud and, finally, into the opaque green of the slowflowing river. Here seems to be a pause; echoes enough for dreams