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Leafy morning

Sitting in a garden  bathroom groggily contemplating a frog at 6 am is one way to welcome the day.  The early light filters through foliage but everything is still monochrome,  greys and greyers.  Under a large leaf sits this medium sized head,  moving slightly.  I thought at first it was a mouse but I could sense the sloping flatness of a frog after a few moments.  He {I’m guessing here}  and I just sat there looking at each other,  eyes resolving themselves out of the gloom.

The frog wasn’t hunting or darting,  posturing or preening,  just  sitting  under the broad leaves. Waiting for breakfast or serenity in a way  only a  frog can know. 

The garden in the bathroom was dry as it  hadn’t rained for a couple of days.  I wondered whether the frog was suffering from this.  Or was it I suffering from what I thought the frog might have perceived as a lack of moisture? I’m not able to guage the specifics of a frog’s happiness so I let that thought slip idly by, to join all the other thoughts that evaporate from consciousness, especially in that glorious jarring  shift from  dreaming to wakefulness. 

The light resolved,  froggy and I more clearly visible to each other.  Still gazing,  photons streaming across the 3 feet separating us.  A universe of difference in a tiny space. Or perhaps not, perhaps we were thinking exactly the same primitive Maslovian thoughts. Hunger,  survival,  safety from predators.  

We were both safe in this walled space,   too thick for a snake  to penetrate for frog and no evil thoughts shaking my calm in my little villa in Bali with that early morning sense of freedom from pain and suffering,  the day not yet imprinted on me. 

Frog moved back under a leaf and disappeared.  I took the sprayer and wet the garden down just in case my earlier notion  might have been correct.  Frog, now hopefully happily wet didn’t reappear. 

My own need for moisture surfaced. Time for wake-up tea. 

Lodtunduh,  Bali,  Sunday morning,  April 2015

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