Sunday mornings are made for this, sitting on the balcony, cup of tea in hand, gazing out at blue skies. But this morning, it's different, it feels illicit, a sneaky, stolen time, time to capture and just savour the moment.
The pool waterfall rushes, sounding like rain, into the aqua water, sunlight glinting off its surface. Children's laughter reverberates around, echoing off the sides and and then intensifying into shrieks and yells as they dive bomb in, bigger splashes that invite onlookers to glance in their direction.
The low hum of cars on the nearby road as others go about their usual Sunday business and above, a rumble as a plane passes over the town, forging a path through the blue sky, leaving the noise of its engines and a white tail in its wake.
A light inconsistent breeze, stirs the trees and flows onto me, a welcome coolness. Birds sing their morning songs softly to each other, their sound interrupted by the distant hammering sound coming from the adjacent houses. A whirring joins in - a mower going about its weekly ritual.
There's a faint, unexpected, smell of bacon, that wafts down from neighbouring apartments- a rarity in this Muslim country- It smell's good.
The children continue to laugh, shout and play and as I sip my tea, I fleetingly contemplate that maybe I could go and share the cool water.
But I sit, knowing that for a minute, or two or ten, this is what Sunday mornings should be like and I resign myself that today, this is just a one off-
Today, I can't- I have to make a move inside.
I leave the balcony doors open to let the soft breeze and the sound of Sunday float in. There will be other weekends to sit, savour and enjoy- But there's only one deadline for my reports, that's creeping up way too fast...I'd best get on with them!