Wherever one walks in Bali, it is indeed wild! One does not daydream or window shop. The eyes are on the feet. (Sidebar: black eye is nearly gone, rib still hurts, knee healing.)

This morning I choose an early (for me) walk at 7:30, postponing breakfast and coffee in exchange for a bit less heat.

Heading to the rice terraces brings me past the morning’s market where Ilhu purchases my breakfast fruit each day. It’s rich with the aromas of multiple fruits and vegetables and covers blocks.

Every inch is used on every motorbike…

Eventually I arrive at the tiny weathered wood sign: TO UBUD’S RICE FIELDS. A ten-inch-wide trail winds a quarter mile between tall grass and long-neglected buildings. I repeat over and over, “You will not see anything you don’t wish to see,” and proceed cautiously for I know the rewards will be worth it. Only a few of the photos can be included here…it is such a spectacular 360 degree view it’s difficult to know which to select. (For full view, click on one and page through.)

The tools of the rice farmer are limited to his back, arms and hand-operated tiller (I’m not a farm girl so guessing on its name).

This long paved path is the only one of its kind sprouting between dirt paths. It rolls over the rise to what appears will be a private villa. A nice detour for me but watching the women carrying two 15# oblong bricks or 30# of dirt on their heads makes me too sad to linger. They work 8-10 hr days for $3. No education = no skills = manual labor.

What the heck is this luxury place doing in the middle of such breathtaking nature? One example of the have and have nots of this world.

An an hour and a half later, I arrive back in Ubud to enjoy a Starbucks iced coffee.  I don’t have to ask any longer; they know my order. Yesterday I tried a smoothie at a new gig in town.

Darling staff, spiffy place, however, imagine sucking small mango jello cubes through a straw!! Whew, I had to leave that drink in the nearest trash receptacle.

A fallen coconut is birthing a new tree. It’s amazing how things grow themselves here with little or no help from human hands.

A shower, breakfast and a strong breeze blowing across my terrace reinforce my gratitude for the day, only just begun.

Thanks for stopping.

Sharon

P.S. I just came from Atmans Cafe where I write my blog. Today I met a lovely young woman from Germany who was only to pleased to chat and share experiences. Again, so easy to meet new friends.