as love breeze past people

In the summer,
there are fields filled with ripe rice, and they stand swaying in the warm air, soft and golden.

and than they sing, as the breeze passes thru them, touching them equally and gently.
the rice sings as they slide past each other.

its nice, because when this happens, you could actually see the breeze itself; as it engraves its own shape as it lies on the vast carpet of rice-field.

its an honest sort of acceptance, between the breeze and each individual rice plant.
I never fail to go walk by those fields in Japan, whenever i go back,
to see just that.

things like that are seen best when you are not within the field, but standing alongside the field.

because when you stand within the rice, you realise in disappointment the breeze will not touch you as it touches the rice.

things like this, though, is seen not just in rural places (like where i lived in japan)

i see it sometimes around in the cities.

when two people sit alongside each other,
and one places its head on the other's shoulder.

it is always nice to see people in love.

you don't realise all their problems, all the inner conflicts, just nice to see.

perhaps even those rice have their own problems with the breeze?

i see them spaced out neatly in approximately 1.5 meter apart from each other, around the KLCC fountain at night.
its kind of funny.
they look like little plants carefully placed around the fountain, from afar.

i half hope they get wet.

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