|
We sat there under the spreading shade of trees on the river’s banks, above YaoYao’s swimming holes and the rocks that form that platform from which all village life is launched, whiling away the late afternoon. As the sun dipped low across the forest on the opposite bank the sound of toads could be heard. Not the gentle ribbet of frogs but wild belly calls of lust filled giant males; aggressive in their prime. When the light faded they began to hop all over the place, a veritable plague of big brown warty monsters sending a shiver down one’s spine.
|
Travelogue