mission

As I hopped onto a tuk-tuk bright and early this morning, my main concern was which would run out first: my camera's  memory capacity, or the batteries. Well…at least it was early, if not bright. The skies were a bit overcast, which was another slight concern. I needed good lighting for my photo outing today.

I bumped my way along the now familiar road leading to the ancient ruins which is the main tourist attraction in this place. I have been here many times before, but today was very different than all the other visits. Today I was totally on my own. No group of visitors to shepherd and guide. Not even any hubby, Mr. having begged out of the adventure due to a painful back.

No, today was all about me and my mission: to get enough good photos to fill a calendar. And not just any shot; I'm talking twelve super extraordinary digital works of art. And I could move at my own pace and do it any way I wished.

And it was wonderful. Just as I got to the ruins, the sun came out gently. Then I chose where to go, breaking all the conventional wisdom about the best approach to seeing this site. I lingered as long as I wanted at any given spot. I moved on when I felt like it. Sometimes I just sat and soaked in the environment. Nice.

However, the day was also rife with danger and mishap. (Sort of.)

I managed to injure myself in pursuit of the perfect shot. I was standing on a stone ledge, and saw a beautiful bas relief through a large stone window. Eyes focused on the details of the carving, I leaped the two foot gap between the ledge and the base of the window. All of a sudden, BAM! I cracked my head soundly on…something. The combination of my singular focus, and the brim of my ball cap had totally obscured the the top of the sandstone window from my view. It was shorter than I had expected, and came as a total surprise. I saw a few stars, but had no time to notice them, as my fingers grasped at the window sill on either side. If I fell backwards I had about a 3-food drop to even more stone below. My finger nails made the same sound as a cat's claws on a tile floor (and did just about as much good), but the outward pressure of my hands against either side of the window steadied me enough that I could step into the building onto solid floor. Whew! No harm done, other than a painful lump on my forehead, which threatens to turn a nasty purple by tomorrow.

And then, later, I almost knocked an older gentleman off of his bicycle. What's more, I did it with just the force of my words. Don't believe me? Here's how it happened.

He was peddling past and said, "Bon jour, Madame."

I replied in the local language, "Hello, uncle." I heard gravel flying and brakes screeching behind me and turned to see him skidding to a halt.

"You know my language?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Can you stop and visit for a little bit?"

Of course I did. He was a delightful old guy. One gnarled tooth still clinging stubbornly to his naked gums. He just basically asked my nationality, and why it was that I knew his language. I explained that I had been here a long time, and came to tell about the religion of Jesus. Oh, that seemed to explain it. We visited a little more about family, etc, and then he released me to go on my way.

I said, "God bless you, uncle!"

"OH!" he said. "Yes. I want long life."

I said, "OK, and good health too." He seemed very pleased. He pretty much made my day.

Heart full from a kind conversation. Senses full of intriguing scenery. Memory card full of countless attempts to capture beauty.

I call that a good day.

(Oh, and it was the batteries that gave out first.)