There was something eerily fascinating about seeing a drenched, partially illuminated basketball court at five thirty in the morning. I walked downhill towards it. There were a few girls with me who were talking amongst themselves, but their voices were a distant murmur. What I could hear clearly were the leaves rustling and the soft sound of the falling rain. The comforting smell of wet mud floated to me.

I could not resist. I sat down right there, on the road. Time passed. I had no idea how long I had been there. The sky slowly turned from an inky dark blue to a warm, light pink. A beautiful ball of pale yellow appeared at the horizon.

It made me wonder why people were always in such a hurry. If only they stopped to admire nature…