My occasional visitor Insomnia is back and so 4am has become my new best friend.
And my new home means that 4am brings new experiences to uncover as I lie in the relative dark, thinking and not thinking.
Apparently, the pond outside my bedroom window was born a swimming pool but indestructible algae soon put paid to that incarnation, relegating it to the status of green, slightly swampy and very square pond and home to a mammoth colony of frogs who spend the whole night chatting vociferously, even more so tonight thanks to torrential rain over the last 24 hours. I lie listening, pondering what might be being said, marvelling at the melodies intrinsic in their communications.
I grab my phone and record the sounds of my insomniac night, eager to capture it for posterity, wondering if one day I’ll want to play it on a loop to bring me back to this place and time once more.
Norman intrudes my musical ponderings, pointing out that I should be using the time usefully. I argue that I am, I’m pondering the language of frogs, the beauty of nature and the memories it’s creating for me and he hops back in his cage and nods off once more.
As time slips slowly by, my chorus is enhanced by a rooster, prematurely crowing the dawn break and in the process adding a new beat to the rendition beyond the four walls.
Rain begins to fall, steadily at first, drip drip drip, then the clouds open and down it pours, splashing heavily to the ground, running off the roof, pouring into puddles and at the same time adding a crashing percussion to the acapella of the frog chorus, the volume increasing in unison as if in competition to be heard.
My mind wanders and I head down avenues that lead to no good – ruminations on ifs and coulds and should and maybes, Norman stirring, sniffing the chance to chastise when the rumbling of a truck thankfully brings me back to the now.
And I return to the room just in time to hear the chorus fading, rain slowing, frog chorus diminishing as dawn begins to break and avifauna take over the melody to accompany my insomnia. I lie listening as bird after bird chimes in with its beautiful notes, tunes in their own-right coming together to form a heavenly avian oratorio.
I close my eyes and listen, taking in the beauty of the sounds and slowly, steadily drift back to sleep awakening once more to sunshine at the start of a gorgeous, post rain, sunny Kampot Sunday morning.
You can check out a few seconds of the frog chorus here if you like