Word of Advice from Sayadaw U Pandita
Gone are the soft fluffy carpets of wild grass which once overgrew fields of farmland to the horizon’s end. As the cold season is gradually being engulfed by the encroaching heat of summer, cool soothing shades of green transform to patchy hues of yellow, orange, cream, brown and black, and the soft fluffy remains of dried blooms give wat to skinny stalks protruding awkwardly from untidy clumps of wilted grass blades.
Almost everywhere skeleton trees can be seen – nuded trunks and shameless branches stripped of fresh green leaves which are now parched dry and strewn on the ground, soon perhaps to become fresh fuel for the unpredictable forest. Here and there columns of smoke rise up to fill the already stifling atmosphere with more dust and ashes as farmers clear the land and set dried bushed and weeds on fire.
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