This morning moved slowly, as if reluctant to move too quickly into the afternoon. The sky was still a soft gray, enveloping the magnificent, golden-domed building that stood majestically before me. The lingering dew of the night lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of the damp grass that stretched across the expansive courtyard.
I sat for a moment, watching the rows of coconut trees sway gently in the breeze. Their leaves rustled softly, like a small, soothing whisper. The white steps leading to the main door looked sturdy, as if welcoming anyone who came with intentions and hopes.
Morning approaching noon always has a different feel. It's no longer as quiet as dawn, but not yet as busy as midday. It's the perfect time for reflection. In this place, the atmosphere feels calm and peaceful. The large dome atop the building seems to glow faintly even though the sun hasn't fully risen. It stands proudly, witnessing the journeys of many—coming with prayers, returning with hopes.
A few steps as I walk along the edge of the cobblestone path. The sound of my shoes hitting the paving is clearly audible, combined with the occasional chirping of birds. In my heart, I'm grateful to still be given the opportunity to enjoy this simple yet meaningful morning.
As midday approaches, the light begins to strengthen. The shadows of the trees slowly shorten. Activity begins to pick up, though not yet too much. The day may be long, perhaps tiring, but this morning has already given me a sense of calm.
Amongst these expanses of green and these majestic buildings, I've learned one thing—that every morning is a new beginning. And as midday approaches, we simply need to walk with an open heart.
This afternoon was slowly creeping into evening. The sky was still shrouded in thin clouds, making the sunlight feel soft and not too hot. The spacious courtyard with its slightly damp paving looked serene, as if it had just been touched by a light drizzle. The trees stood still, their branches occasionally swaying gently in the breeze.
I stood in the shade of the building, gazing out at the deserted driveway. Motorcycles parked neatly to the right, a silent witness to the activity that had been bustling earlier. Now the atmosphere was beginning to slow. People had probably returned to their respective rooms, finishing up business before the day truly ended.
The approach of midday to evening always brings a different feeling. There's a growing sense of fatigue in my shoulders, but also a small sense of satisfaction that some tasks have been completed. Among the green trees and this majestic building, I learned to enjoy the pause. Not all time has to be filled with haste.
The breeze was cooler than it had been earlier. The tree shadows began to lengthen across the paving. The atmosphere felt peaceful, as if signaling that the day would soon come to a peaceful close.
In moments like these, I often reflect—on what has been accomplished and what still needs improvement. The afternoon slowly turning into evening taught me that every day has its own rhythm. We just need to follow its flow with patience and an open heart.
Note: I am writing in Indonesian and using the help of Google translate to translate into English.
All gifts from this post will be burned and made into strength to support other hivers posts.
| Photographer | Smartphone used | Location |
|---|---|---|
| @mahyul94 | Redme 9C | Nanggroe Aceh Darussalam |