bimble

By monkus

goddess of mercy

Waking with the sound of music lingering in my head, as if following from sleep and caught upon imaginary paths wound into the day. Out beyond the window pane the morning's bright, clouds white and high interspersed blue sky background. The hills clear, buildings appearing upon slopes, a perfect day for a walk postponed, espresso, clarity of thought, tasks completed by late morning,

Off towards Xian Shan, paths busy, groups walking to the rhythm of sticks and poles beating upon the path, heat and humidity gathering beneath cooling blasts of a strengthening wind. I get as far as the crazed Buddha temple, descend and sit for a while, find an untrodden path winding muddily down through an unexpected valley, follow.

The sounds of bamboo stalks creaking and cracking in branch bending wind, giant ferns reaching up from moss covered stones weighed down with dry leaves and broken branches, sunlight above caught upon the swaying bright green canopy. Accompanied by the sounds of running water, a clear stream descending through rocks eroded by forgotten floods, time worn and smooth faced, dampened by the runoff from the slopes above as the path levels out, a grove of allotments spreading out, terraced and tidy between the steep widening slopes.

Beyond this stone steps replace mud beneath my feet, bordered by a fence,  above a steep drop, until the path opens out into a sculpted park, a stone bridge crossing the following stream, a pool beneath heavy with fish sheltering in a shadowed corner of the rock built banks. Rockfaces rising higher now, coloured blue or green from moss or lichen, naked red beneath a crown of vegetation, higher still another eagle circles, surfing upon currents of rising wind, voices spilling loudly from a pavilion above me, the edge of the city resumed...



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbQ08Ixczvo

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