Yesterday's field is now a lake teeming with baby frogs Each dimpling the perfect reflection of the sky leaving in its tiny wake a fatal arrow for those that watch and prey while roadside froglets gangling with the grace of youth pause intense in focus limbs slender, tense ready to spring and vanish It was this morning . . . the air changed glowed soft and pink a strong wind blew and the rains fell sudden, sustained finding everywhere flowing over us finding us naked beneath our clothes shiny faced and laughing the veil of cloud and rain transforming every colour the brightest sari the gaudiest flower the foliage of mango glossy, dense and dark cascading rain The smell of vegetation damp and warm and we ankle deep in the torrent in the street our senses light and full
