The one that got away

I recalled a couple of quotes on recent morning walks. The first is written by a favourite author, Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh:I like to walk alone of country paths, rice plants and wild grasses on both sides, putting each foot down on the earth in mindfulness, knowing that I walk on the wondrous earth.  In such moments, existence is a miraculous and mysterious reality.  People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle.  But I think the real miracle is to walk on earth...a miracle we don't even recognise.I was also reminded of a quote by GK Chesterton who said, Travellers see what they see. Tourists see what they come to see.  Let's face it, we all like to think we are travellers but I was aware of this kind of choice this morning.The day before yesterday (and in Nepali I could have said that in a single word -asti) on my morning walk there was a moment of profound beauty where the full moon hung low in the sky, glowing and pearl-like, positioned perfectly behind the fork of the crossed bamboo poles at the top of a Dashain swing. The light was magnificent and I was sad not to have my camera.  So today I did bring my camera but, wouldn't you know it, the moon (while still tantalisingly full looking) did not hover anywhere near the swing, didn't sink anywhere and and merely faded into nothingness.  (Dad, I know there is a good explanation for this! When I haven't been woken to feel compassion for a barking dog at 4 I'll have a think about it.  Otherwise please just tell me). For a while I loitered around waiting and hoping the moon would do what it did, but alas...it didn't and, rather than mourning the morning I didn't get the good photo, I decided that this would be the morning of exploring those little tracks I haven't been down. I do like a good circuit as a rule and usually walk on one of about three or four I know I won't get too lost on. But today, I had already broken with tradition so was free to continue to do so. (Circuits, traditions, rituals...what are we learning here?).  In effect I was leapfrogging the milk bike man.  Our paths have crossed on other occasions but today I was well and truly on his turf.  He cycled along stopping at each house and someone would come out and tip the morning's fresh milk from a bucket or jug into his cans.  The milk bike man was not usually followed by a videshi powering along, occasionally stopping to take photos, and I seemed to be as fascinating for the locals as they were for me. They'd stop their sweeping, milking, tooth brushing and chiya making and come out to get a better look. It became a regular meet the neighbours. We'd Namaste and stand around discussing the meaning of life and what was happening with Tony Abbott's popularity ratings in Australia and then get on with our respective days. While I missed the world's greatest photo of the moon setting over a Dashain swing, I saw other lovely and surprising things.  Including a freshly painted plaster bust of Mr. Narendra B. Abuwang complete with carefully observed details, right down to the ball point pen in his pocket.