Kind of blue

Rising reluctant to the third paused alarm, J staring at mountains, coffee plus coffee just about equating with movement.
An offer of real coffee to Deepa and Flower leads to the sister's place with Aeropress and then a morning reiki for their mum and, word having got out around the village of the odd goings on here, another for a villager with sore knees. Strange days indeed.
Down to the barber's for a head massage, leaving in the knowledge that it could end up asa daily thing for my stay here while around me the morning passes in a blur somewhere out beyond my grasp.
It's a weary day though, the tides of the last few days draining energy, the slow hills steepening with each step.
Off along a woodland path, dry stane offering a bed beneath young pines and deodars, look up, close eyes and breathe, listen to those who exhalations rising from the very depths of the self.
On the balcony, 2200, a surprise that the day's passed so quickly as dim stars appear between dancing clouds 

Thoughts of an earlier conversation with a shopkeeper. "You're lucky you are here now. Too many buildings being built. In ten years this village will be lost."
Maybe he's right.