Last night in Paradise

This is it, our last night living on the beach. Hard to explain how simple and tranquil this has been. Staying here long enough that you are recognized by people, your habits known, your needs met. Our waiter at our favorite restaurant knows we order the morning glories no matter what else we have. He repeats our order before we can say it our selves, " Penang chicken curry, squid with basil and chili, morning glory, rice and two soda water with ice and lime". the sweet girl named Da from the north-east of Thailand who walks the beach selling jewelry, speaks decent English and passes our chaise several times a day, who we like and buy a couple of token necklaces from just so she can make a living. She brings us a sweet rice treat wrapped in banana leaf and leaves it on our chairs. The home made coconut ice cream seller who is so adorable and proud of his product. He separates a small roasted coconut in half, scoops six small balls of fresh ice cream into the coconut, and his young daughter places a tiny umbrella on top with a little crushed peanut, a few strips of fresh coconut and a tiny dome of colored candy. It is a small masterpiece and a very generous offering of one's hard work and decency. People here are so full of life. They work so hard. Yet they smile and have a soft way of taking it all in stride. In this month we have been introduced to wonderful new taste treats that as a tourist you may overlook. An old woman who grills small strips of bamboo which has a sweet mixture of banana and rice and coconut paste inside. Old fashioned Thai treats. Another who makes tiny balls of rice paste with a sweet palm sugar in the middle and everything dipped in fresh grated coconut which literally burst open when you bite through the jelly textured exterior to the sweet sugar inside. People proud of their homemade offerings. The days have become weeks as we've slipped into a more natural pace. The weather improving day by day to the most perfect day, this last one. Awoke to the sound of our new little alarm clock, a two year old who now occupies the bungalow behind us, and starts a non stop conversation the moment he awakens. His silent father walks him to the sand and lets him chatter endlessly before the sun rises. So we awake, take our chaise out to our spot in the sand beneath the twin palms we so like, and we watch the sun break free from the early morning clouds. The water is soft like velvet and we swam slowly parallel to the shore. I don't know of another place where I can swim in such a beautiful calm sea that is warm and with out waves. The day goes by so quickly. My book sits unread because all I can do is watch the sea changing colors, the clouds, the small boats moving by and the planes emerging from the clouds on their way to the airport on the other side of the hills. The "show" keeps my interest in a lazy hypnotic trance and I just can't seem to get past it's allure. I will miss my little simple bungalow by the sea. It is a gift to be living this close to nature. But Bali beckons and there is a little losman in a rice paddy awaiting us so our leaving is bittersweet and exciting all at the same time.