Monday, November 12, 2007

Scribbles from darjeeling.

Love small steam-train that breaks down in the middle of nowhere and seven men pour out of the carriage wielding only a hammer because it’s all they have.

Love that the train is moving again in five minutes and all seven jump in with their hammers and look out the window like this is perfectly ordinary.

Love losing phone signal and looking out the window at Everest thru the clouds, like shards of mountain bits tearing thru a white cloak, and the hint of rain hanging in the air.

Love small miracles and how easily one finds perfection.

Like snow.

When you're expecting rain.