Perfumed Nights

That fiery Northerly wind has disappeared.  Now, you wouldn’t know there was such a thing as breeze, these balmy tropical nights – except for the occasional rustle of mango leaves, of gently swaying coconut fronds, a sudden gavotte from the bamboo poles.

In the afternoon the clouds congregate – thin and wispy, they bring the temperature down.  They’re teasers though.  Last night not more than a dozen tentative patters on the roof – barely audible until I held my breath.

With the heavens lidded, scents move sideways.  There are a few early blossoms on the Sepalika* tree outside my room – little orange canisters releasing their unmistakable, sweet fragrance into the cool of midnight.  Frangipani and jasmine arrive from the front, pale and ghostly, like the moon’s faint glow.

Before dawn a fiery moon subsides into black shadow.

*  ‘Queen of the Night’, ‘Coral Jasmine’, ‘Harsimgar’, Parijath’, or correctly, Nyctanthes arbour tristis.