Church bells ring out in the distant hills,
A faint honey-suckled air fills the breeze,
A mist descends slowly on the rolling tea fields,
As a soft rain starts to drizzle.
A lone crow chases away a pair of screeching parakeets,
While the wind sends the eucalyptus trees into shivers.
My dogs run around, as I snuggle up, sipping tea,
Turning inwards, listening for peace.
* Here’s some background to this Musing:
Friday night last week, was fraught with delayed flights. I landed home past midnight, from a business trip, desperately seeking sleep, only to have my mom announce that we’re leaving on a long-awaited family trip to the hills at five o’ clock in the morning. I’ve never been a morning person, and, this really stumped me. Not that I wasn’t looking forward to this sudden breather; in fact, it was precisely what I needed. But, it was just that I was too tired to really be excited about anything. Anyways, I had to be dragged out of bed in the morning, and with tired feet, a blank mind, and, a weary soul, I got on the road again.
Luckily, weekend traffic was sparse, and, we quickly found our way out of the city. By mid-morning, we were already cruising through valleys of marigold flowers meandering into forest roads, strewn with langurs posing atop mile posts, and, packs of spotted deer deftly shying away. By the time we arrived at the blue mountains, past the crowded, tiny streets, and, tea picker huts in all shades of shocking green, blue and orange, I knew that I was happy to be there.