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Moving to the times

It’s always interesting by end of day. Now I sit drinking a iced peach orange tea. The temperatures kicked up and the humidity decided to follow suit. For years I’ve wandered in Asia and I love the powerful sun here. I walk through it and end up sitting on a street corner wherever drinking a big bottle of water. When I sit there it’s like I’m stopped and the city speeds up. So many places sat and watched and the sun is the primary element until in the afternoon sometimes it clouds up. Then the wind picks up and clouds swirl. Almost a primordial force here but only for 30 or so minutes. Then like it started it stops. Thunder booms and the wind still dances the leaves and moves flags and lets everyone know it’s still a force.

But we move. Move to the times. Like a soulful dance where the beat sounds and rain falls and laughter under the umbrella ripples. Then the other big umbrella residents say xin chao or hello and conversation may start.

where are you from? Do you like our country? Do you have Vietnamese friends?

I do my best to answer and everyone waits sometimes until the last raindrop falls and it’s almost hesitantly they bid goodbye. Some tell me they are glad I am here. Older people gently size me up. Yeah. I’m one of them.

So we move. Move to the times. The sun lets us know it’s not done. And the rain may decide it’s the time to return. It doesn’t matter. I never have a place I’m from or a place I’m going. Such is retirement and there are no times to move to. Only the embrace of moments that also will signal.

My iced fruit tea is almost done. It’s almost 530pm. I’ll walk up this hill and meet a friend for dinner in a bit. We will talk and joke and be thankful we are in Vietnam. It does not last forever for me but the moments give me a few more moves.

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