On the way back from the fields, on one of the long nosed tractors that are the local utility vehicle. Taken from my lap, so a bit of luck there...

And today has been another bike, the forgetting of a waterfall and a beach...and probably a bruised bum after it all...but what a beautiful place, which I accept I've probably said at every stop in Laos. But it is. Tranquil, less intense than the north; lazily lapping waters punctuated by clumps of of vegetation and protrusions of rock above which the sky looks bigger...

and the first beach wanted 35000 kip to view it, another was free and had a nice path winding to a tiny beachlette which held a waterlogged canoe; I echoed wooden ribs protruding in Scarinish and sat awhile listening to the waters.

and then another sunset which glories in its afterglow, viewed from the railway bridge which links the two islands...a failed haulage railway, French navy...and watching the hills against flaming sky and the silvered water where shadows of fishermen sailed dropping their nets between occasional engines and the dimming light of the day...

later, standing upon the raised road between rice fields which links the main street to the wat - actually the main road passes through the wat, there's a sign asking for quiet after 2230 - I found another echo of places past. But not comparative, just a moment of a refracted recognition; other places, other selfs...and still time to listen...