Views in the Valley

I am starting my second week of work with Warm Heart, of living in this beautiful rural place and getting to know my neighbors.  Nature's power is not lost on anyone who lives here, many of whom eat or starve by the rain, and work endless hours under the beating sun. The geography and weather of the place had an immediate impact on me, and continue to leave different impressions on me each and every day.

I have never seen anything like it: we are in a flat valley that runs into cool blue mountains on all sides. Rice fields and lam-yai trees cover the land like wall-to-wall carpeting, and when one looks out, you can truly see everything - a diorama of village life, with clouds bobbing about, oxen moving and people coming and going.  It is on my commute to and from work that I get to know these scenes.  I ride my early-90s model Honda Dream motorbike to the "office," which takes 30 minutes each way.  In the morning, the sun has risen and the sky is clear and still, but it is still cool. It is my favorite time to ride.

Throughout the day the sky slowly comes to life. Mini-stormsystems develop across the valley and move around in a game of high altitude musical chairs. Some stop to leave the blessing of water for a section of fields, and other times they only tease the farmers with gusts of wind and their promising damp chill before dissipating as if they changed their minds.

On the way home at 5:30 pm, the sun is setting behind the western ridge, and the "rainy season" makes itself known. The clouds seem to have reached critical mass so they cannot help but take over the sky. Growing up, I remember a few occasions when an ominous storm would announce itself well ahead of its arrival, sending forth messengers in the form of leaves twirling in unnatural patterns, garbage cans being knocked over, and curtains being sucked violently out of their docile swaying. Here, this happens almost every day, and while it doesn't scare me as much as it once did, I try to avoid being caught out in it on my bike if I can.

But despite the gusto with which it arrives, it only storms for a short period of time, and the commute home is indescribably beautiful. As the cliques of clouds, now relieved of their weight, pass through the glen, they create dancing light patterns against the changing colors of the mountains, and the golden temples sparkle with the last rays of the day. The sky is once again quiet as everyone goes home for dinner and rest. It feels as if we are being watched, and the entire valley is being tended by an invisible hand at the end of the day

Photo credit: Warm Heart Thailand