This morning I woke before dawn. Again the moon was so bright on the water it felt like day. I got dressed and sat in the terrace watching the sea change from silver and grey to white and blue as dawn brightened behind me. The moon sank towards the water but the sun outstripped it, and by the time the others awoke it was a pale smudge in the lightening sky. There was a chorus of buzzing insects in one tree, and then another and another as they felt the spreading morning light.
We woke early as we had booked a bird watching trip. A four wheel drive took up into the interior of the island, an arid red tinged savanna emerging from white sand and dotted by shallow snail-filled pools. It felt very un-Thai though certainly not as arid as Chakwal. We saw some fine birds too, a few eagles and kingfishers, white cranes and what I understand is the only population of the lesser adjutant crane in Thailand. It was a very large bird indeed, awkward and graceful at the same time, like a hornbill in flight.
It reminded me of my university days, when I would sometimes wake early to walk to Mount Auburn cemetary for birdwatching. Not that I watched for many birds, but being out in the morning and feeling the freshness and hearing the birds is one of the great pleasures of being alive, and I enjoyed the quiet focus of the actual birdwatchers.
Strange to think that as I grow older I feel more and more in common with Ogion in A Wizard of Earthsea. To hear, one must be silent, he says, and this is a simple thought that I come back to. I enjoy silence and listening to what is around, and I enjoy darkness and letting my eyes see what there is to see.