When a new outfit is coming from apsara's or so it's said and the dhotis are made backwards 'cause the tailor's standing on his head remember not to dread, they'll wear skirts instead
The carnation garlands saved me from another garland maker who saw me picking flowers for arati and charged me with stealing from the garlands. HA! She must be remembering last winter's near deep freeze there was even ice upon the road that made her car flip between the trees. But that's long gone and the sounds of bird's song have returned while the flowers bloom copiously here in June.
Today as this pedaler was making the loop the wind began to howl. It rattled in the opal cliff and rebounded in the cove, shook the natural bridges and pushed me past Bhakta Blade's home. Along the old railroad bridge, past the boardwalk, the steamer's alley, the sufferer murti and the hurricane's historic spot. It whistled through the east cliff drive and blew me through the point and led me on to the asrama where it was time for the kirtan.
The howling wind is making the mercury dip low tonight so the chodders were in order and perhaps some hot khir and bananas along with sweet spices for them to take before their evening rest