......... the song of a yercaud monday

still white clouds and the vast expanse of a clear blue sky, the lazy play of light and shade on the distant mountains, patches of purple jacaranda among a hundred shades of green, the unbroken freedom songs of the roosters and the birds, the jugalbandhi of the warm sun and the cool breeze, and the carefree dance of these butterflies as they butterfly past me. of course I am writing from our little home in yercaud where we snuck in a day's leave to make possible the monthly pilgrimage that keeps us sane. i am saying a day but each day really feels like two – that's how wonderfully slow life is here in yercaud. we set out from ettimadai at 630 am on sunday morning, backpacks on our backs and a song in our hearts and reached our home in yercaud only around 3 pm, much of the day gone in just reaching here, and we'll be here less than two days :-) but we love every bit of it – yercaud has become a journey more than a destination for us! the lullaby of the loud tamil songs in the morning bus that takes us to the railway station, the rush to the breakfast at the railway canteen in coimbatore (best dosas in town J), buying all the magazines in the world from higginbothams, the lokmanya tilak express and our indulgent journey – eating, reading, sleeping, just letting the stress seep out of our bones. this journey ends at salem and its just about time for the "high class coffee" at salem railway station! then comes the legendary bus journey from salem to yercaud – sometimes it seems like that they're hiring out of work F1 drivers here! but the anticipation and lightness is just growing as the bus climbs – the higher the altitude, the happier the attitude! these are of course our regular routines I am talking about – how much happiness one can get from these little things! In yercaud the routines continue – and the joy too– vegetables from the farmers market, the "hello we have arrived" phone call to lucas, vegetarian meals at selvam's (delicious!), fresh yeracud coffee powder from vignesh, the lovely six km ride with arun through orange, silver oak and coffee land to "orange county", and the final trudge to 'saanidhya" – our home! will latte (our dog) be there to welcome us? will there be electricity this time? is there drinking water at home? will the internet work? these, and many more things that we take for granted in ettimadai, are the great unknowns as we enter our home. yet how can I describe to you what we really feel when that key turns in the lock and the door opens. it's magical J its magical and this week's poem is about this magic of everyday ordinary things that yercaud has been teaching us about. the poet is walt whitman and the occasion is called life: Miracles by Walt Whitman (1819-1892) Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place. To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same. To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the ships with men in them, What stranger miracles are there? its 4 pm on a yercaud monday, i'm sitting on our terrace watching leaves fall. the other miracle is that the internet is actually working right now! so here we go - to a week filled with miracles small and smaller :-) much love, d&s