I am holed up here at Hilton in Oakdale, Minnesota for two weeks already. One more week to go and I am off to sunny California and back to my sunny disposition. The lethargic ebb and flow of life in this provincial state is an everyday challenge to pull myself together and beat get rid any colonial state of mind. The very state of mind that every tourist and travellers tend to bring to their destinations. For one, i can't find a place to seat to enjoy the distillation of the city. Not in this part of the state. Maybe i haven't tried enough. Maybe i should try harder. Maybe i just let the city come to me. And she did. Nature is so generous to lend its beautiful sunshine and chilly wind as I wandered amidst multi- colored foliages and rolling green meadows as if mother nature was overcompensating for whatever this particular place failed to offer to a hungry hobo like me. Not for long though. These past couple of days, my intermittent and leisurely appraisal of the area were done under the suspicious gaze of the gloomy and ominous sky as if to taunt me of the hidden nostalgic feeling i have been keeping, of the homes I have had in the past, as i was awed by the sheer beauty of the gray horizons and its quiet inhabitants of trees and meadows, of green grass and yellow dried leaves almost carpeting the grass, that in every shutter of my camera bring closer to the places i call homes. I can almost touch them.
As i trained my camera to the distant horizon, i can't help but noticed the trees, naked under the overcast sky, stand like exhausted mourners listening to the wind's final elegy. In their silence, i stand still and received their silent rebuke. Yes, even in the gloomiest of season, in the darkest of night,nature never ceases to share its glint of beauty.
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