The Sounds of the Bush

Steel guard rail on the side of the road in the bush

The cacophony of birds before dawn makes it impossible to sleep. The humid air has condensed on the pile of leaves that I’ve heaped on top of me, but I’m dry and warm beneath. I can hear the bugs crawling through the pile, but as far as I can tell they haven’t bitten me all … Continue reading The Sounds of the Bush

The Grain of Rice

Prongs or tangs of a fork in soft sunlight casting shadow

We stick together - me and my buddies. If we didn’t, they’d call us “fried rices,” not “fried rice." There was once one among us though, who went against the grain. Can you imagine eating us with chopsticks if you had to pick us up one by one? Well, the one of us who had … Continue reading The Grain of Rice