I remember the day clearly—sunlight filtered past ancient stone towers, and the air was thick with the perfume of damp earth and moss. I was perched behind a grove of ancient roots, notebook in hand, trying to capture the ruin’s grandeur when a soft rustling diverted my gaze.
That’s when I first saw Robby.
He was like a whisper—no bigger than my fist, with downy fur the color of warm honey. He tilted his head, curious, and his big, liquid eyes met mine. In that instant, the forest hushed. I’d always traveled to Angkor Wat to feel history, to sense time stretching back over centuries. But that day, it wasn’t history—it was life.
Robby hopped closer—his tiny fingers curling around a vine, as if offering me an invitation. My heart thundered. Over the next hour, we shared silent communication: I offered a gentle word, he responded with a tilt of the ear. I expected the lens of my camera to falter in its clarity, but instead, each snapshot captured his innocence to perfection—his playful spirit suspended under the green canopy.
From the moment he extended a tentative hand, as if seeking friendship from this stranger—an outsider to his world—I felt drawn. He didn’t scamper away but stayed, chest rising in soft, rhythmic breaths, leaning against the wooden plank I’d used to sit upon.
I whispered to him about my children back home—how they would have laughed at his antics, how I wished they could see him now, snacking on a tiny flower petal and looking at me with wonder. Though he couldn’t understand my words, Robby’s bright gaze seemed to soften. It was a reminder of how love transcends species and words—how we all crave connection.
I remember thinking how fragile life is—that this adorable creature, thriving on ancient stones that have weathered a thousand years, was alive right here, right now. And that connection—unexpected, tender—filled me with an ache of gratitude and humility.
By the time I left, Robby had scuttled back into the trees. But he left behind something permanent in my heart: a memory of pure wonder, of a silent bond formed in the mossy silence of Angkor Wat.
