The monsoon breeze soughs through the branches, and cools my face. The rustling of the leaves is soothing. Scudding rainclouds travel across the sky.
I look at an ancient temple, and a shepherd driving his flock past it.
A brightly-coloured Coppersmith Barbet calls, and then flies across to another tree.
Opposite me is a Gulmohar tree, which has not yet realized that the monsoon has set in; it's full of bright red blooms, and it frames a bunch of blossoms of the Jacaranda, too.
Rainwater flows over the granite slope that the temple stands upon.
The temple pond reflects the little pavilion at its edge.
Someone rings the small bell hanging in front of the temple; the sound accentuates, rather than disturbs, the serenity of the moment. I see my friends walking under another huge tree.
All is well in my world, right now, and I send up a prayer of thanks for it.
These peaceful moments seep into my soul, and I return home with a heart full of happiness, contentment, and gratitude.