I Like Serene and Quiet Places

I remember the house well. I would often sit in that rattan chair by the side door, the one closest to the well outside. Mom had placed a huge wok over the well so that we would not fall over and drown. I never liked the chicken coop that was built. It attracted pythons that lurked around and although I never saw one myself, Mom had reported seeing that sinister thing staring down at her from the toilet shed.

On hot humid days, with nothing much to do, I would look out to see that beyond the toilet shed, there is a hedge. My mind would make up all kinds of images of the world that lay beyond that hedge. It could be the huge river. I had seen it outside and it must somehow pass this way to the back of the house. Or it could be another kampong where young children like me lived. Maybe there would be another lonely soul over that hedge. Probably. I never found out.

In this quiet town in Spain, while walking back to the apartment from the hills, this view of the town brings back that memory from many many years ago. Finally, I see that beyond that hedge is a world that is so different from mine. It is infinitely more beautiful than what I had envisaged in my mind's eye.

And back in Asia now, I give thanks every day for the special person who lives there, for taking me over the hedge and sharing his world with me.