Source: Inam Ahmed
I lazily watched the children play like some wild goats on the tree trunk. They jumped and ran, they swung and somersaulted . Their laughter ringing loud in the valley. Their tattered clothes flapped in the wind.
A pack of 12 great slaty woodpeckers passed over to the forest, a rare sight today. Thousands of birds were chirping and singing around. The whole valley was kind of floating on bird songs. And I was bobbing on the waves.
The lady then chopped wood, after which she vanished towards the creek with five big pitchers. After a while she appeared with the pitchers perfectly balanced on top of her head. Fetching water is a tough job. I can’t imagine doing it several times a day.
She had dug some holes by the creek where water filters into. This they use for drinking. The creek water is for cooking.
The little kids came home carrying various leaves and ferns. They had dug out wild tubers, which when boiled tasted like sweet potato.
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