And I can hear the twittering of birds - what sort of birds I don't know, perhaps just little sparrows. Now there's the sound of a helicopter, a Huey by the sound it makes - a regular thump thump thump - that takes me back to Vietnam in the '60s.

I see a fisherman waist deep in water casting his net in a huge circular pattern then wading out to see if he has a catch.

And I look out at the rocks showing above the water and can see my daughter Jennifer paddling there when she was 2-years old. And I can see her looking out over the restaurant railing, or standing under the shower by the stairs that lead to the beach.

If you think this is just a second childhood all I can say is that it should have come years ago - it is the reason I never want to leave the Philippines.

Later . . . back at the house in Baccuit just south of Bali Hai Beach Resort:

I look out the back window from the kitchen and see a huge caribou with its calf. The calf is paddling in a pool of muddy water that is surrounded by chickens. From the front I can see another caribou, this one is dragging an old-fashioned plow through a paddock with the farmer walking along behind giving orders. There is a faint smell of caribou poo but it doesn't bother me. In fact it reminds me of the days when I had to collect buckets of moo-poo for my Dad's garden.

And I'm re-reading the book "How to Write with the Skill of a Master and the Genius of a Child" by Marshall J.Cook. He, like Bradbury, emphasizes seeing the world through the eyes of a child, seeing with wide-eyed wonder, seeing with zest and gusto and curiosity. There is no better way.

Thank you Ray Bradbury.

And thank you Philippines!

Allan Miller,  June 2007

  Copyright © 2007 Allan Miller