The tiniest spark

In a forest pitch dark
Glowed the tiniest spark
It burst into a flame
Like, like me

Bjork – Isobel

I’ve never been a fan of long dark nights, associating them with winter, cold and that tired, lazy feeling that seems to spread at this time of year. But in the tropics night falls early all year round and it doesn’t bother me at all. Sitting outside with a drink and something good to eat, listening to the night birds, insects and sounds of the waves is bliss for me.

In the forested centre of Sri Lanka, close to Dambulla, there are no street lights to guide your way at night. Lights from houses dotted in the woods loom out of the darkness. Elephants too, which is probably why most people prefer to be off the road by nightfall.

It feels like another world, remote and cut off, though in reality it’s probably not so far from a small town. A gecko, almost translucently pale, flits across the wall.

I don’t know if it’s just me but music and images are almost intriniscally linked in my mind. The flickering lights suggest the first lines of Isobel by Bjork,a song I probably haven’t heard in three or four years, and it fits, perfectly. Funny how memories work.

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