Christmas musings

 

Christmas. A warm sunny noon is the best gift by the snow-bearded Santa. It’s cold and windy but the sunlight infuses enough courage in your bones to allow you to go for a noontime walk on the solitary trail. There are three little skinny puppies by a mushroom hut. They already have a sense of owning a territory. A big dog turns in their direction and the tiny chits of puppies let out a full-spirited spell of growls and barking. The elderly dog is amused and stops. It looks at them with respect. It then turns away, allowing them to have a sense of successfully defending their territory. You have to speak up for your rights, even in the face of far bigger rivals. Sometimes they just give you respect on principle.

It’s a narrow cart track among the farmlands. There are bushes on both sides. I see a snake’s crawl line on the fine undisturbed sand. It seems a beautiful signature of mother nature. It must be a huge cobra. The crawling line is at least wide enough to cover my palm. It’s still the same old world with such big snakes somehow still alive and surviving. I respectfully look at the bush. Maybe it shifted position to sunbathe on the southern side.