Rice fields, Ubud
Location: Bali, Indonesia
Early morning, I sit at the roughly hewn wooden table I call my desk. It sits beneath grass woven eaves and wooden beams, protection enough from the elements and blue sky. Green rice patties recently harvested spread out before me. The only movement is of a single farmer bent in his work turning the wet ground. I breath slowly, lest I interrupt.
On the edge of the field, with indifference and nervous agitation, a swarm of muddy brown ducks squawk and peck for their morning meal.
Captivated, I watch as they make their way across the field. On a still pond, they are the rocks thrown.
What more is there to know beyond what is already in front of me, I wonder. Does this not contain the loam of life itself?