Morning

Three dump trucks packed from stem to stern with white-clad Balinese men and women rumble bumper-to-bumper down Jalan Hangtua bound for a burial ceremony. It is mid morning and the day is already hot and breathless. Last night there was thunder and then rain. It rained hard for perhaps ten minutes and then the rain lifted and the heat returned and the dissatisfied clouds pressed to the earth as if seeking again the moisture they had lost. The Balinese women in the dump trucks hold their headgear in place, hair drifting in breezy haloes, truck wheels rumbling, truck beds rattling, and the sudden blast of the lead truck's horn sends the scooters scurrying. It is morning still, and the day will be long and hot, but everyone is hoping for the rain to return when evening comes.