Strange weather here. At this time of the year, we're starting to go crazy from the constant dry heat. Any movement of the air stirs up the dust, and sometimes a cloud will fly overhead, discharging a few hard drops of rain which plop in the fine dust, making small craters. This year, a gust of cold weather from China blew in rain clouds and now it feels like the month of May, clammy and cold with drizzle.
The Mekong River has grown, and the mysterious island which appeared in February and now back in the depths. The beautiful old boat which was destroyed when it tipped over, has been dismantled. A few old boards remain where the pier used to be.
It's good to be back home, but I still feel a little disoriented. I enter my house and walk around. Is this really where I live? The strangest places are those familiar ones that we return to after an absence.