Nature Song

Trip Start Jun 02, 2007
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Trip End Ongoing


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Flag of Indonesia  ,
Tuesday, June 5, 2007

There is a song by Incubus, one of my favourite, called Aqueous Transmission. Accompanied by flute and an Asian stringed instrument, it is a soothing song that ends with the sound of frogs, their song growing ever louder in a crescendo before fading out. For some reason hearing the rhythmic sound of frogs at the end of that song always filled me with a longing that I couldn't quite explain..But now I think I know what it was. It was a longing for nature.

Now my wish has been granted. I am here, in nature, and a part of it. I heard the song of frogs last night and it made me feel so happy and peaceful. Last night, when we were tucked in our beds beneath our mosquito nets, a thunderstorm rolled in. Rain drummed down on our little tin roof, a few drops falling through and cooling my skin as I breathed in the scent of fresh earth. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the thousands of tiny holes in the bamboo walls, making them look like a galaxy of stars.

After the storm, the frogs began to sing. They began in a rhythmic chorus, accentuated by an alto frog, and the sound rose and fell in in its own pattern. It was just like what I'd heard in the Incubus song, but it was real, made even richer by the symphony of other sounds--the staccato of a scratching bird, the plosh of the fish swimming in the pond beneath the floorboards of our house on stilts, the chirp of geckos in the eaves.

Then as the morning light began to filter through the walls, an old man in the hut next door began to sing his morning prayers, his soft voice blending seamlessly with the sounds of nature around us.

As I lay there awake listening to this morning music, I felt something I hadn't felt before in a long time. It was joy, the pure, exuisite joy of being alive. I felt my body, mind and soul join together as I became one with the natural world again.

When I arose to go outside and take it all in, Briony, another girl working on the orangutan project with us here at Coconut Island, was already sitting on the porch with a cup of tea. We simply smiled and remained silent. For this short space in time, we both knew that words were no longer necessary.
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