Mist

     I'm standing in my neighborhood next to the tennis court looking down the hill into the valley. It's dusk and the mist is slowly creeping across the rice paddies that fill the valley behind my home. I feel as though I'm perched on top of the world the hill is so steep. The mist seems to be exceptionally thick this evening as the temperature dropped quickly after a brief rain. I'm surrounded by the hubbub of the neighborhood, of people returning home after long days at work, but I feel the sense of calm and beauty of this peaceful sight that is all too common here in Rwanda.

     I live in a beautiful country. I experienced this again the very next morning. I left the house at 5:30 am in order to catch the 6 o'clock bus to Kigali.  As I walk quickly over the cobblestone and dirt roads of Taba I enjoy the eerie stillness and the cool air. The sky is still black and doesn't start to lighten until I am on my bus waiting to head north. As soon as we leave, I catch a glimpse of a world still sleepy from the night before as the blood red sun creeps over the ridge and starts shining down on the fields. People are slow this morning due to the public holiday. I know that the market will be small today. But several men are already pushing their bikes up the hill with their rice sacks filled with goods to sell. 

Lesson Learned:

I'm truly very blessed to live here.