~ wander.essence ~

the call to place: japan

wanderessence1025 October 25, 2018

My strange and unexpected fascination with Kyoto, Japan started, quite simply, with a visit to What the Book? in the Itaewon neighborhood of Seoul, South Korea. Browsing through the travel section in December, 2010 when my son Alex was visiting, I come across a book by Pico Iyer called The Lady and the Monk: Four Seasons in Kyoto. The picture on the front was enticing enough, the photograph divided diagonally into two parts. On the top triangle was a Japanese lady in a mustard colored kimono, holding an umbrella by her side. On the bottom was a city street with neon signs and fast-moving headlight beams, like red and yellow silk threads, speeding down the length of the streets.

Inspiration

The blurb on the back cover said Pico Iyer decided to go to Kyoto and live in a monastery, to learn about Zen Buddhism from the inside, to get to know one of the loveliest cities in the world, and to experience Japanese culture. To be honest, this was what hooked me and caused me to open the book. On the first page he described an accidental encounter with Japan, which occured only because of an overnight layover on a flight to somewhere else. In the morning, he walked outside: “As I began to walk along the narrow lanes, I felt, in fact, as if I were walking through a gallery of still lifes. Everything looked exactly the way it was supposed to look, polished to a sheen, and motionless.”

the curving staircase at Eikan-do

There were multiple things that appealed to me about the whole premise of this book. I was enthralled. First, the idea of Japan as a “still life” was intriguing. I didn’t have any interest in going to Japan as I feared it would be a repeat of Korea. Many Koreans told me Japan was just like Korea. Of course, many of those Koreans had never left their own country, so I didn’t know why I should have believed them. Then several fellow English teachers I knew in Korea also said it was about the same. These comments steered me away from Japan because I’d explored many corners of Korea during the year and I really didn’t want to spend my time and money flying to Japan to see more of the same. Nothing in Korea could honestly be compared to a “still life.” But those two simple words shifted my perspective. They felt like an invitation into a painting, a piece of art awash with color and beauty, with elegant gardens and exquisite taste.

pretty little what-nots

still life in Kyoto

The other thing that piqued my interest was Pico Iyer’s desire to learn about Zen Buddhism. In Korea, I had put off time and again doing a temple stay. I finally ended up doing one, but only toward the end of my stay in late February of 2011, after I’d been to Japan (temple stay at golgulsa sunmudo ~ a surprise encounter with monk-type martial arts). This interest in Zen was one of the things that fascinated me about this book, and about Japan.

Heian-jingu Shrine

the golden pavilion at Kinkaku-ji

I enjoyed Japanese food, especially sushi that I’d eaten in the U.S. I loved to see ornamental gardens and the cultivation of beauty all around. After all, I used to take classes in interior design and had a small interior design business of my own for a while. I decorated my own house in Virginia from top to bottom. I’ve always been drawn to exuberant colors. I loved the idea of ritual. I loved the idea of tea ceremonies and flower arranging, although I’d never participated in either.

garden in Kyoto

temple in Kyoto

Tempura in Kyoto

colorful change purses

typical shop in Japan

Years ago, I read Memoirs of a Geisha. I found the geisha culture fascinating, though disturbing on many levels. I also read the book Hiroshima, by John Hersey, a moving and highly disturbing personal story of that city’s residents who survived the nuclear attack in 1945. I used to think if I ever visited Japan, I would have to go to Hiroshima where it is said you can see outlines of people who were vaporized by the bomb on concrete walls. I didn’t know if this was simply a legend. Anyway, I’d talked to people who visited Hiroshima and they said it is extremely depressing, much like visiting the Holocaust Museum in Washington, I assume. An educational and moving and disturbing voyage, something everyone should do. It wouldn’t be something I would do on my first visit.

girls in kimono at Heian-jingu Shrine

girls in kimono drinking from a well of good fortune at kiyomizu-dera temple

I wasn’t knowledgeable overall about Japanese culture. So I looked forward to spending five days in Kyoto over the lunar new year in February, 2011. I looked forward to painting myself, a mere fleeting brushstroke, into the “still life” of Kyoto conjured up by Pico Iyer.

the famous rock garden at Ryoan-ji, or Temple of the Peaceful Dragon

the cute little Randen Railway

the Bamboo Path at Arashiyama

ema at Nonomiya

celebration of Lunar New Year at Tenryuji Temple

me going bicycling in Kyoto

the infinite torii gates at Fushimi-Inari-Taisha

All photos are from my first visit to Kyoto in February, 2011.

Fast forward to late February of 2017, six years after my first visit to Japan. I was offered a job teaching EFL to Japanese university students in Japan beginning on March 28, 2017 (the term actually began April 7 and ended August 1). I opted to extend my stay for one week, until August 8, so I could travel around Japan for a week. As I’d always wanted to visit Hiroshima, I’d have to incorporate a visit into that journey.

My short trip to Kyoto in February 2011 had been delightful. I loved the Buddhist temples, the ubiquitous vending machines, Japanese food, the cleanliness and efficiency of everything. I looked forward to exploring as much of Japan as I could in the four months I’d be there.

I would live in Sagamihara City in Kanagawa Prefecture, part of the greater Tokyo metropolitan area. The capital of Kanagawa is Yokohama, the second largest city in Japan by population (3.7 million); it lies on Tokyo Bay, south of Tokyo, in the Kantō region of the main island of Honshu, and is today one of Japan’s major ports.

~ catbird in japan | the land of temples and what-nots ~

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“THE CALL TO PLACE” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about what enticed you to choose a particular destination. If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments. If your destination is a place you love and keep returning to, feel free to write about that. If you want to see the original post about the subject, you can check it out here: imaginings: the call to place.

Please include the link in the comments below by Wednesday, November 21 at 1:00 p.m. EST. When I write my post in response to this challenge on Thursday, November 22, I’ll include your links in that post. If you’d like, you can use the hashtag #wanderessence.

This will be an ongoing invitation, on the fourth Thursday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired! As I’m still in Spain/Portugal, see below in the comments for any links.

Thanks to all of you who wrote posts about “the call to place.” 🙂

things i learned in niagara falls, ontario

wanderessence1025 October 23, 2018

I learned that a bed and breakfast in Niagara Falls can be way over the top, an extravaganza of color, turrets, kitsch and knick-knacks.

I learned that the view of Horseshoe Falls is all-encompassing and stunning from the Canadian side.

I learned that Hornblower Cruises is the Canadian boat ride into the tumult of the horseshoe, and that passengers wear red ponchos.

I learned that when it’s a gloomy day, I feel gloomy, and when it’s sunny, I feel sunny. 🙂

I learned that there is a Ten Thousand Buddha Temple north of Niagara Falls where monks are dedicated to spreading peace and understanding of dharma philosophy.

I learned that Niagara-on-the-Lake is charming little town but there isn’t much to do there.

I learned that the waitress at Fouros Greek Restaurant seemed a bit terrified when preparing the flaming saganaki for many customers.

I relearned that I despise eggs with runny whites. (Not that I ever forget!)

I learned that at the brink of Niagara Falls a speed of 109km/hour has been recorded, while downriver where the Niagara River expands, it reaches 40km/hour. At the White Water Walk, they reach 48km/hour, making them Class 6 rapids.

I learned that Class 6 rapids, the highest level, are extremely difficult to maneuver due to steep vertical drops and boulders; Class 6 is usually considered unrunnable.

I learned that the Whirlpool Rapids run for 4km through Niagara Gorge and have standing waves of 3-5 meters, caused not by rock obstructions but by the sheer force of water being channeled through the narrowing gorge.

I learned that tightrope walkers are known as funambulists.

I learned that the first person to cross the Gorge on a rope was Jean Francois Gravelet “Blondin.” In 1860, he carried a 56-lb. stove on his back. Dressed in a chef’s uniform, he carried 3 tin plates, a small hand bellows, a spirit lamp, wooden matches and some flammable tar pitch. After putting down the stove on one part of the rope, he cooked up a two-egg omelet and ate it.

I learned that Barrel Rider Maude Williams got caught the swirling vortex of the whirlpool for six hours in 1901 and died of suffocation because her pet dog, who accompanied her, put his nose into the only hole in the barrel, cutting off her air supply.

I learned that daredevil performances began in 1859 to meet the demands of spectators. Because of fatalities, they were made illegal in 1911. Violators are now fined $10,000.

I learned that Harriet Tubman and other slaves made their way into Canada on the suspension bridge over the Niagara River in 1856.

I learned that you can take your kids down a garish street with haunted houses, wax museums, a Ferris wheel, a bowling alley, Ripley’s Believe It or Not, fast food joints, and tacky souvenir shops.

I learned that even though I hate loud, kitschy arcades like the ones on Centre Street, I love taking photos of them.

I learned it’s fun to spend time with an old friend who you haven’t seen in five years.

I learned that I’m not patient enough to capture butterflies on camera.

I learned it’s fun to walk around drinking Tempranillo in silver espresso cups with a good friend.

I learned that in Canada they use the term “open carry” to refer to walking around with an open alcoholic beverage while in America we use it to refer to openly carrying a firearm in public.

I learned that seeing waterfalls and rainbows under blue skies, while chatting with an old friend, make my day.

I learned that I’m lucky to have friends in life, like Mona Lisa, who never fail to make an effort with me. She lugged a bottle of wine and silver cups in her backpack all the way from Waterloo on the bus, and she treated me to the Butterfly Conservatory.

I learned that the power of water never fails to amaze.

I learned that after sundown, Horseshoe Falls is lit in candy-colors of green, turquoise and pink.

I learned I always enjoy meeting European travelers in the U.S.

A Moment in Time B&B

My room in A Moment in Time B&B

The breakfast room at A Moment in Time

Hornblower Cruises & Horseshoe Falls

Ten Thousand Buddha Temple

Niagara-on-the-Lake

White Water Walk

Ripley’s Believe It or Not

Centre Street

Ferris wheel and bowling on Centre Street

Fudge on Centre Street

Butterfly Conservatory

Butterfly in the Conservatory

Rainbow over Horseshoe Falls

Double rainbow and Hornblower Cruises

Mona Lisa at Horseshoe Falls

me at Horseshoe Falls

Brink of the Falls

Brink of the Falls lit up at night

*June 27-28, 2018*

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“PROSE” INVITATION: I invite you to write up to a post on your own blog about a recently visited particular destination (not journeys in general). Concentrate on any intention you set for your prose. In this case, one of my intentions for my trip to Niagara Falls, Ontario was to write a “things I learned” list in each place.

It doesn’t matter whether you write fiction or non-fiction for this invitation. You can either set your own writing intentions, or use one of the prompts I’ve listed on this page: writing prompts: prose & poetry. (This page is a work in process.) You can also include photos, of course.

Include the link in the comments below by Monday, November 12 at 1:00 p.m. EST. When I write my post in response to this invitation on Tuesday, November 13, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired. See below in the comments for any links. 🙂

Thanks to all of you who wrote prosaic posts following intentions you set for yourself. 🙂

the lava flow trail at sunset crater national monument

wanderessence1025 October 21, 2018

Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument lies south of Wupatki National Monument, just north of Flagstaff, Arizona. Erupting sometime between 1064 and 1100, Sunset Crater is the most recent in a six-million-year history of volcanic activity in the Flagstaff area. It reminds us of violent forces that have shaped the earth, creating 600 hills and mountains in the San Francisco volcanic field. These mountains have affected the climate and habitat of all living things in the region.

With the first eruption, a thin layer of ash absorbed precious moisture and helped prevent evaporation. Climate change provided more rainfall during the growing season, helping agriculture flourish. By 1180, thousands of people were farming on the Wupatki landscape. By 1250, when the volcano had quieted, their pueblos stood empty.

Sunset Crater is a cinder cone, formed during early explosive stages of an eruption. Magma rises up from the underground. As the magma ascends, the pressure drops and gases are released. The high levels of gas in the magma cause an explosion out of the central vent, creating a mound or cone of solidified rock pieces around the vent. Lava flows produced by lower-gas magma may escape from the side or base of the cone.

We stop for a look at the Cinder Hills Overlook, treading carefully among the skunkbrush sumac, the berries of which, when mixed with sugar and water, make a popular “lemonade” for indigenous people.

Here we see a series of cinder-covered vents, marking a fissure along which the most recent volcanic activity occurred.

Cinder Hills Overlook

We drive further into the park, where we take a 1.23-mile walk around the Lava Flow Trail to the base of Sunset Crater Volcano.

Lava Flow Trail

Lichen, in a myriad of forms and colors, paint the lava flow’s basalt.

lichen on the Lava Flow Trail

Lava Flow Trail

Many of the pines show twisting and spiraling wood under the bark. Spiral growth increases flexibility, helping the tree survive wind and snow damage.

gnarled pines

tree swirls

Most of the Ponderosa Pines along the trail don’t look like their majestic counterparts growing in nearby forests. The drier, hotter environment and nutrient-poor soils of this volcanic landscape stunt growth.

Ponderosa pines

pine bark

Ponderosa Pines

Cinder cones like Sunset Crater Volcano erode easily and scars are slow to heal. In 1973, Sunset Crater was closed to climbing when 2-foot-wide trails eroded to 60-foot-wide swaths. Tons of cinder were shoveled back up the cone to fill hip-deep trenches. The scars are still visible today. Plants will eventually return to areas where cinders are left undisturbed. Walking in barren areas dislodges soil particles forming between the cinders.

Sunset Crater Volcano

the wasteland

Sunset Crater Volcano

the wasteland

As a living ancestral homeland to the Hopi, Zuni, Yavapai, Havasupai, Hualapai, Navajo, Western Apache, and Southern Paiute, Sunset Crater is revered and cared for. People return often, bringing prayers and engaging in timeless traditions.

the lava field

Hopi people believe their ancestors’ spirits, the Katsinas, travel from the San Francisco Peaks to the Hopi villages and back each year via Sunset Crater and Bonito Park. Some deities reside in the immediate area.

Lava Flow Trail

The Pueblo of Zuni considers Sunset Crater part of a much larger sacred landscape which continues to be important for plant and mineral collection. Pilgrimages have taken place in historic times.

Lava Flow Trail

The Navajo people believe the cinder cones surrounding San Francisco Peaks, including Sunset Crater, are the guardians of the peaks. Within these sacred mountains reside Navajo deities honored with everyday offerings.

Sunset Crater Volcano from the Lava Flow Trail

As we leave the park, we pass through a pretty sparse pine forest.

sparse pine forest

“The Peaks” dominate the horizon at the Bonito Park Overlook, rising 12,636 feet to Arizona’s highest point. Visible for miles from all directions, they are revered by Native people.

Spanish friars christened these peaks as San Francisco Mountain in 1629 to honor St. Francis of Assisi. The first wave of Spanish explorers, surprised that such large mountains didn’t spawn lakes or streams, charted them the Sierra Sin Agua — mountains without water. On the other hand, most Native names for the peaks are a reference to a mountain with life-giving moisture.

This immense stratovolcano captures large amounts of rain and snowfall, yet surface water is scarce. Moisture drains down rapidly through fractured bedrock and much is sponged up by porous volcanic rock. The closest river, the Little Colorado, is connected to the peaks by drainages but rarely receives water directly.

The mountain is sculpted into four peaks from left to right: Agassiz, Humphreys, Fremont, and Doyle.

San Francisco Peaks

Bonito Park Overlook

Of course, I had to get my sticker and stamp for my National Parks Passport!

Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument sticker and stamp 🙂

There were several other hikes we could have done here, but the ranger told us if we wanted to walk around the Island Trail at Walnut Canyon National Monument, we had to begin the trail by 4:00. We left Sunset Crater at 2:47 and made a mad rush to get to Walnut Canyon. Mike would be leaving Monday morning to fly back home via Phoenix, so he wanted to squeeze in the last National Monument around Flagstaff before heading home.

*Sunday, May 13, 2018*

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On Sundays, I plan to post various walks that I took on our Four Corners trip as well as hikes I take locally while training for the Camino de Santiago; I may also post on other unrelated subjects. I will use these posts to participate in Jo’s Monday Walks or any other challenges that catch my fancy.

This post is in response to Jo’s Monday Walk.

petroglyphs in the four corners

wanderessence1025 October 18, 2018

Rock art and petroglyphs are widespread throughout the Four Corners area. They are like whispers of history from indigenous people, revealing something about their long-ago cultures.

Petroglyphs are images, symbols or designs scratched, pecked, carved, or incised on the surface of rock. Archeologists can guess at the meaning of the rock art, or they can ask contemporary indigenous communities about the meaning of these images.

In Utah, near Wolfe Ranch at Arches National Park, we found a stylized horse and rider surrounded by bighorn sheep and dog-like animals. Typical of Ute rock art, these figures were carved sometime between 1650 and 1850. Today this rock art panel is important to Native Americans in the region because it was created by their ancestors.

Ute Rock Art at Arches National Park

On Utah Highway Route 279 outside of Moab, prehistoric Native American rock art is found along the Colorado River and its tributary rivers, streams and side canyons. The rock art is depicted in either pictograph (painted) or petroglyph (pecked, incised, chiseled) images. Anthropomorphic (human characteristic) and Zoomorphic (animal characteristic) images are found here.

Cliffs along the Colorado River near Moab

Archeologists believe most of the rock art was created during Archaic (6,000-1000 B.C.) and Fremont (450-1300 A.D.) cultural periods.

Archaic rock art consists of pictographs and petroglyphs depicting anthropomorphs and zoomorphs, curvilinear lines, zigzags, wavy lines, concentric circles, and abstract symbols.

Petroglyphs on Rt. 279

Fremont Indian rock art often depicts trapezoidal anthropomorphs with horns, bighorn sheep, dogs, hunting scenes with weapons, and abstract objects.

Petroglyphs on Rt. 279

Petroglyphs on Rt. 279

Archaic and Fremont Indian petroglyphs can sometimes be found on the same rock art panel.

Petroglyphs on Rt. 279

Native American groups ascribe religious functions to some of the rock art panels and consider them to be sacred sites. Rock art has also been interpreted as depicting concepts of migration routes, fertility, hunting magic, ceremonies, and cosmic events.

Petroglyphs on Rt. 279

At Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona, the images below depict circular faces on a dark rock surface. Modern groups identify these as Kachinas, or spirit beings, in Pueblo religion and cosmology. Research suggests that the “Kachina culture” arrived in this region around 1300 A.D. Similar symbols, found on modern Puebloan pottery and weavings, remind us of the continuity between prehistoric sites and the present.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Contemporary tribes have identified the step symbol on the rock below as a migration symbol, an important theme in Puebloan oral history.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

The dark coating on the boulder below is desert varnish – a concentration of mineral, clay, and organic material that accumulates over time Prehistoric artists created rock art by exposing the lighter material underneath.

Members of the Zuni tribe believe that this rock art depicts clan ties of the artist – perhaps a mother from the Crane Clan and father from the Frog Clan. An alternative Hopi interpretation recalls stories of a giant bird that came to villages to eat bad children.

The image below is similar to the white-faces ibis, a water bird, native to Petrified Forest, that eats frogs and other small animals. A close looks reveals what might represent water drops below the frog. This petroglyph likely represents aquatic resources and fertility.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

*May, 2018*

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“PHOTOGRAPHY” INVITATION: I invite you to create a photography intention and then create a blog post for a place you have visited. Alternately, you can post a thematic post about a place, photos of whatever you discovered that set your heart afire. You can also do a thematic post of something you have found throughout all your travels: churches, doors, people reading, people hiking, mountains, patterns, all black & white, whatever!

You probably have your own ideas about this, but in case you’d like some ideas, you can visit my page: photography inspiration.

I challenge you to post no more than 20 photos (fewer is better) and to write less than 500-700 words about any travel-related photography intention you set for yourself.

While I’m in Spain walking the Camino de Santiago from August 31 – October 25, and then in Portugal from October 26 – November 6, I kindly request that if you have a photography post you’d like to share, please simply link it to the appropriate post, this one or my next one as soon as it publishes. I will try my best to read your posts while I’m on my journey, but I won’t have a computer or the time or ability to add links to my posts.

My next scheduled photography post will be on November 1, 2018.

This will be an ongoing invitation, every first and third Thursday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired! See below in the comments for any links.

Thanks to all of you who shared posts on the “photography” invitation. 🙂

on journey: digging deep ~ edgy korean bus culture, tea bushes & wetlands, & the surrendered

wanderessence1025 October 17, 2018

One early Saturday morning in October, I ventured out on the first leg of a quest to discover the hidden Korea, that of the former war zone. Destination: the southwest of the country, Jeollanam-do province. I wanted to see the tea plantations of Boseong and the eco-park of Suncheon Bay. I was lugging a hardback copy of the 2010 book, The Surrendered, by Korean author Chang-Rae Lee, who teaches creative writing at Princeton University.

Since I had a 3-month stretch ahead with virtually no holidays, I decided I would explore as much of Korea as I could on the yellow- and scarlet-hued autumn weekends. Granted, my destination this time was not a war zone. Maybe this destination never even figured prominently in the Korean War. Maybe. But as I read this book, I thought that there was probably not a place in Korea left unscathed by that war. I was trying to dig in deep, to see Korea in a light shadowed to this day by a war that ravaged this country fewer than 60 years before.

I left my apartment at 6 a.m. to catch the 7:05 bus to Suncheon from the Seobu bus terminal in Daegu. The bus ride, which I was told would be 3 to 3 1/2 hours, was uneventful, except for the delightful surprise that it was only 2 1/2 hours! During the ride, I was caught up in the story of June, an 11-year-old Korean girl, who in 1950 witnessed the death of her mother and sister, and the arrest of her father and older brother. On her own, she was caring for her 7-year-old twin brother and sister. June took on the responsibility for transporting her siblings safely toward Busan, along with thousands of other refugees fleeing the war. What might have otherwise been a pretty journey through “hills just turning the colors of pumpkin and hay and pomegranate” was in fact a harrowing journey; this 11-year-old girl suffered horribly and ultimately lost both of her siblings in a gruesome train accident along the way.

Not happy reading, granted. But I wanted to see what makes Koreans tick, what in their history makes them the way they are. So I read along, totally engrossed, until I got to Suncheon.

At the Suncheon bus terminal, I boarded a bus to Boseong. Walking down the aisle, I passed a Korean man dressed in black yelling into his cell phone in the front seat. This was not so abnormal in Korea; many Koreans yell into their cell phones as a matter of course. But it became quickly evident that this man was furious.

I didn’t witness what happened next, but possibly the bus driver came on board and told the man to quiet down. By this time, I was seated about a third of the way back from the front of the bus. Suddenly the yelling man began to punch the bus driver, forcing him toward the back; he pushed the driver into a seat maybe four rows behind me. The yelling man was pummeling the poor bus driver who was cowering against the window. This violent man then pulled off his shirt, revealing tattoos on his arm and back, and grabbed the bus driver around the throat and was knocking him upside the head, so that his head was bouncing like a rubber ball against the window.

All the passengers sat in their seats, stupefied by this spectacle. I stood up along with a Korean girl. I thought briefly about stepping into the middle but realized this would be idiotic. This man wouldn’t hesitate to hit a woman. I was terrified he would kill the poor bus driver. The Korean girl and I looked at each other and we quickly ducked off the bus to find help. She spoke to some guys standing in the bus terminal (they looked like employees at the terminal) and I was yelling and making fighting gestures and beckoning them to follow, which they did.

Back on the bus, the man was still beating on the bus driver. Both of them were yelling angrily, but the bus driver was taking the brunt of the blows. The bus terminal men entered the fray and pulled the two apart and forcibly removed the crazy guy from the bus. The bus driver, clearly shaken, went to the front and started to collect tickets, front to back. Surprisingly, he didn’t look bloodied or bruised, but he was an emotional wreck. He said something to me, and a Korean guy sitting nearby told me in English that the bus driver thanked me.

As the bus took off, I caught the eye of a young red-headed guy who I’d seen earlier in the bus terminal. We started commiserating about the fight, trying to figure out what precipitated it. He said, “Did you see that guy’s stomach? It had scars all over it. He’s been in a lot of fights.” We couldn’t figure out exactly what started it. I told him I was thinking of stepping into the middle; I hoped they wouldn’t dare hit a woman. The red-head said he was told that if there were ever any trouble in Korea, a foreigner should NEVER get involved because foreigners are often blamed as instigators.

On our one hour ride to Boseong, we talked a lot: the red-head whose name was Peter, the English-speaking Korean guy who went by the English name of Jacob, and me. The fight excited us such that we became garrulous. Jacob was full of questions about both of us, asking Peter and me what we were doing in Korea. Jacob himself was a Korean who had been living and working in the Philippines for 10 years. He was 50 years old, married, and had three children: a 20-year-old daughter, and 18-year-old twins. He was in “trade” – mainly vitamins and health foods. He asked my age, but I insisted it was a mystery. He was in Korea working and also exploring on weekends parts of the country he hadn’t seen before. He told me he was headed to the tea plantations for the day and I said that’s where I was going too.

Peter, who was 27, was from New Brunswick, Canada, and had been teaching in Korea for one month in a public middle school in Boseong. He told me that in Boseong they have a 5-day market. Every 5 days, everyone gathers their goods together to sell or to barter. Today was the market day.

Once we arrived in Boseong, Peter took off for his home, and Jacob and I waited for the bus to Yulpo Beach, which would drop us at the tea plantations.

inside the seobu bus terminal in daegu

inside the bus

Jacob and Peter

At the bus terminal, Jacob motioned for me to sit on a bench with some ajumas for a picture. I was happy about this as I’ve been trying to surreptitiously take pictures of ajumas but have never actually gotten one full on with their awareness and participation. They were quite happy to smile and pose; afterward I showed them each the picture and the one wearing a pink shirt held on to my camera, telling Jacob she wanted a copy of the picture. They asked Jacob if we were husband and wife. This was the first of such questions thrown our way throughout the day. Each time we laughed and said, no, we had just met on the bus!

me with the ajumas

On the derelict bus, hardscrabble Korean locals carried bags or boxes of products to take to the 5-day market: dried chili peppers, live chickens (!), rice, roots and various leafy vegetables. They disembarked well before the tea farms. The bus driver made one stop to drop off a huge plastic bag full of red chili peppers. I wondered if the chili peppers had to pay the bus fare.

the local bus to the market

a local Korean man on the way to the Boseong market

Jacob and I got dropped at the entrance to Daehan Dawon, touted as Korea’s one and only “green tea farm” theme park. We went into a little shop and the lady there served us some green tea. I was surprised that green tea tasted more like a broth than the tea I’m accustomed to. The lady asked Jacob’s age; he told her 50 and she told him he looked very young. She asked him my age, and he explained to her that apparently it was a very sensitive issue! She then asked us if we were husband and wife, and we both laughed and said that we just met on the bus. We drank our tea and walked through a lovely canopy of trees toward the plantation. This place was so lushly green, with its millions of tea plants and its cedar, cypress, yew, ginkgo, maple and camellia trees.

the tea lady

me and Jacob having tea

In 1939, a study concluded that Boseong was an ideal place to cultivate green tea. Optimal conditions include annual rainfall of more than 60 inches (1500 mm), porous and permeable soil, cool weather with a great daily temperature range, and high humidity. Soon after the study, tea planting started across the region. But, during the Korean War, all the fields were ravaged.

It turns out I was right: no place in Korea was left unscathed by the war. In 1957, the tea industry started again. Now there are 5.8 million tea plants growing on this green tea farm. In 2005, the plantation’s tea was certified as organic.

Jacob and I wandered leisurely through the lush green carpets of tea bushes and then climbed up a steep hill to a vantage point. He said, It smells so good! I sniffed the air and I couldn’t smell anything. 😦

After walking up and down and taking multitudes of photos, we returned to the bottom. Jacob told me his wife worked as a volunteer teacher for a Christian missionary organization. She taught elementary school. Apparently when their children leave home, his wife would like to return to Korea where, because of her years of teaching, she could make a lot of money. But Jacob told her that he could provide and that God would like it best if she continued her volunteer teaching. Both he and his wife were really concerned that their children didn’t know enough about Korean culture. Jacob told me he went on a trip with a church group to Turkey to follow St. Paul’s travels. He went to many of the same places I did, but he lost his USB with all his photos on it. Jacob also told me that that morning he had prayed to God that he would meet someone today to explore Korea with. He says his prayer was answered because he met me.

Boseong Tea Plantation

Boseong Tea Plantation

me at Boseong Tea Plantation

We returned to the tea shop to retrieve our bags, with the intention of taking the Yulpo Beach bus further south, where there were supposedly even more beautiful tea plantations. The proprietor told us the bus would arrive at 2:50. We waited until 3:30 and then decided we couldn’t wait any longer. Jacob had to go to Gwangju and then to Daejeon this evening to meet some friends and I wanted to go back to Suncheon and find a hotel before it started raining. So we crossed under the bridge to catch the bus back to Boseong. In Boseong, Jacob went on his merry way toward his friends. I was disappointed not to see the next tea farm, but, as it turned out, I finally arrived back in Suncheon just before a downpour. I had to find a hotel and with the help of a patient and kind-hearted lady at the Suncheon terminal tourist information, I was directed to the BMW Motel.

When I walked up to the BMW Motel, smoke was pouring out of the parking lot into the entryway. The proprietor was using a fire extinguisher on the source of the fire; it looked like a trashcan and some bedding from one of the rooms. He sprayed it with the fire extinguisher and came into the hotel to check me in. I told him, using gestures, that I wanted to see the room before paying, but he simply could not understand and kept sticking out his hand for my money. While this failure to communicate was transpiring, the fire flared up again, and I gestured wildly to him that the fire had revived. He was unperturbed by my gestures, so I got wilder and more demented-looking in my miming: Come! Come! Fire!! He was utterly clueless. Finally, he got up from behind his little glass enclosed cage and grabbed the fire extinguisher again.

the BMW Hotel

Meanwhile, I called a friend to translate for me that I wanted to see the room before paying. Finally. I inspected the room and paid the 30,000 won. I left my bag and stupidly headed out into the rain and the impending darkness to go to Suncheon Bay. I was hoping that by the time I returned to the BMW, the fire would be extinguished. I hoped the whole motel wouldn’t burn down in my absence.

By the time I finally got to the bay, it was dark and pouring down rain! I was obviously not yet ready to accept the shorter days of fall. I didn’t want to be dropped in the middle of nowhere, but the driver gestured vehemently that I had to get off. Luckily the bus stop was covered and I waited with a few other stragglers for a good 20 minutes to go back to Suncheon. I caught the same bus with the same driver who forced me to get off in the first place.

In Suncheon, I found a Paris Baguette, ate a shrimp and vegetable bun, bought a beer, and settled into my room, where I planned to relax, read, and watch TV. However, I was so wound up that I couldn’t sleep. I dove into The Surrendered, which was so intense that I found it impossible to sleep. I was up until well after midnight, trudging along with 11-year-old June Han and other desperate war refugees to the south of Korea, hungry, terrified, surrounded by death and utter confusion, and hanging on to survival by a flimsy filament of hope and determination.

Unable to sleep because of The Surrendered

The story followed three main characters: June, Hector and Sylvie; its locale moved from Korea to New Jersey to Manchuria. It was a complicated story about the effects of war on people’s psyches. I came across excellent descriptions of the Korea I had come to know. At one point, Hector, who had fought in the mountains of Korea, ruminated about the cold: “He knew the cold in Korea, at least in the mountains in the far north, how it seeped into you and then resided with an unrelenting grip…” My own father, who also served in the U.S. Navy during the Korean War told me before I came here that all he could remember about Korea was that it was the coldest place he’d ever been. I arrived in Korea in February, and it was bitter, unrelentingly cold.

Hector also mused about the mountains of Korea, which are certainly ubiquitous: “The grounds of the orphanage were set on a low and wide plateau amid steeper, higher hills and mountains that ranged across much of the country. The land was a lesson in hills, one right after the next.”

The book reminded me how tenuous life can be. There is normalcy, and then, suddenly, there is not. War does that. The atrocities people are capable of inflicting on one another during extreme situations like war are beyond belief.

After reading The Surrendered, when I saw old farmers and bent-backed ajumas in Korea, I knew they had seen horrors in their lives that we could never imagine. I hoped the 50+ year armistice between North and South Korea would hold, or would someday be resolved, so that this resilient country wouldn’t have to suffer such hardships again.

*Saturday, October 2, 2010*

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“ON JOURNEY” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about the journey itself for a recently visited specific destination. If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments.

In this case, my intention was to explore far flung parts of Korea and to learn something about how the Korean War impacted the people and the country, as informed by taking along the book, The Surrendered. On the journey, I encountered a cast of unusual characters, a cross section of Korean culture.

Include the link in the comments below by Tuesday, November 20 at 1:00 p.m. EST. When I write my post in response to this challenge on Wednesday, November 21, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, once on the third Wednesday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired! See below in the comments for any links.

Many thanks to all of you who wrote posts about the journey. I’m inspired by all of you! 🙂

wupatki pueblo

wanderessence1025 October 14, 2018

Near the Visitor’s Center at Wupatki National Monument sits the amazing Wupatki Pueblo, a multi-level high rise. People gathered here during the 1100s, gradually building this 100-room pueblo with a community room and ballcourt. It was the largest dwelling for at least fifty miles. By 1182, perhaps 85 to 100 people lived here. Within a day’s walk, a population of several thousand surrounded Wupatki.

This particular village became the heart of a thriving community and was a landmark, a gathering place, and a ceremonial center. This monumental structure may have signaled control over farm lands and united a community that changed as it grew and accepted immigrants.

We walk a half-mile loop around the pueblo.

Wupatki Pueblo

Puebloan and Navajo peoples have a long list of medicinal uses for this profuse native plant, broom snakeweed, from cures for colds, stomachaches, and eye problems to rattlesnake bites. But it might not have been readily available to their ancestors. Scientists have not yet found this plant in archeological settings.

Broom Snakeweed

Many people lived in numerous small dwellings found for miles around; those living here may have held ritual and leadership responsibilities.

Wupatki Pueblo

Descendants say prophesy and beliefs guided decisions and that villages like this were purposefully settled and left. When clans departed, doorways were sealed and items left in rooms; maybe people hoped to return one day.

Community room at Wupatki Pueblo

Below is a depiction of Pueblo life here 900 years ago, based on historical accounts and archeological evidence. This embellished interpretation helps us visualize the vibrant Wupatki society. Hopi and Zuni oral histories say that people of diverse origins came together here. Plain red-brown pottery originated near Flagstaff, while the painted black and white pots came from Kayenta country to the northeast. The architecture is both Chacoan and Kayenta in style, and the ballcourt and abundant shell jewelry indicate ties to the far south.

Through trade, villagers acquired numerous Mesoamerican scarlet macaws and copper bells needed for ceremonies and rituals. Perhaps in return, they offered their woven cotton textiles, with various styles and decorative techniques from all over the Southwest. Life here involved sharing and trading.

Life in the past

Wupatki today appears abandoned, but it is actually remembered and cared for. Though it is no longer physically occupied, Hopi believe the people who lived and died here remain as spiritual guardians. Stories of Wupatki are passed on among Hopi, Zuni, Navajo, and perhaps other tribes. Members of the Hopi Bear, Sand, Lizard, Rattlesnake, Water, Snow, and Katsina Clans return periodically to deepen their personal understanding of their clan history.

Wupatki Pueblo

Villagers shared walls, water, food, protection, and prayer. They depended on one another, celebrated life and marked passages, planned for, reacted, and adapted to environmental and social circumstances. People gathered to celebrate harvest and honor their way of life. Women prepared food and men and boys engaged in contests in the ballcourt. Ceremonies and rituals established harmony and encouraged rain and fertility.

Community room

Wupatki Pueblo

from the Community Room looking up at Wupatki Pueblo

Community Room & Wupatki Pueblo

Ballcourt

It is remarkable that this land, so dry and hot, supported a large farming community. Moisture-conserving cinders from the eruption of nearby Sunset Crater volcano made for slightly better farming conditions during the 1100s. But extensive land and labor would have been required.

the surrounding land

Located at the crossroads between Sinagua, Cohonina, and Kayenta Anasazi cultural traditions, Wupatki exhibits a unique cultural brew. The exchange of ideas shows up in homes built the Anasazi way but furnished with Sinagua-style pottery, textiles, and tools. Archeologists still debate whether this represents different cultures interacting here, or if it is just the “many different ways to be Sinagua.”

masonry at Wupatki Pueblo

The environment provided materials ideal for the construction of freestanding masonry dwellings. Sandstone slabs, limestone blocks, and chunks of basalt set with a clay-based mortar yielded sturdy buildings that, despite weathering and vandalism, remain partially intact more than 700 years after their owners departed.

masonry at Wupatki Pueblo

This high desert area is home to lizards and gopher snakes, which are non-venomous and feed on rodents that live around the dwellings. Mike was disappointed to have missed out on snake encounters in these desert areas.

lizard friend

Wupatki Pueblo

The reasons people left were likely varied. By the 1200s, the area was denuded of trees and shrubs and soils were depleted. As the environment changed, perhaps conflicts increased or trade networks shifted and other villages had more to offer.

Descendants of these inhabitants, the Hopi, Zuni, and other Pueblo groups, still adhere to a lifestyle that values hard work and spiritual life over material possessions.

Of course, at the Visitor’s Center, I got my sticker and cancellation stamp!

Wupatki National Monument sticker and Passport stamp

*Sunday, May 13, 2018*

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This post is in response to Jo’s Monday Walk.

things i learned in niagara falls, new york

wanderessence1025 October 9, 2018

I learned that our Gray Lines tour guide, an American citizen whose ancestors are from India and who was born in Uganda, has been leading tours here since 1994. I am reminded daily how much immigrants add to the fabric of our society. But then I’ve always known that.

I learned that I always prefer to avoid tours because of the combustible mix of personalities, selfish people, and the alliances and cliques that inevitably form.

I learned that Trump-supporting Texans really annoy me. Especially ones who obviously could care less about being politically correct.

I learned that views of Niagara Falls are not as good on the American side of the Falls as they are on the Canadian side; the views are decent from the Maid of the Mist and the Observation Tower, but they’re not as spectacular as from the Canadian shore.

American Falls & Bridal Veil Falls from Maid of the Mist

Bridal Veil Falls and Cave of the Winds from Maid of the Mist

Horseshoe Falls from Maid of the Mist

American & Bridal Veil Falls, and the Observation Tower, from Maid of the Mist

I learned that three waterfalls make up Niagara Falls: American Falls, Bridal Veil Falls, and Horseshoe Falls.

View of all three falls from the Observation Tower – American, Bridal Veil, and Horseshoe (left to right)

View downriver & the Rainbow Bridge from the Observation Tower

View of Canada & the Rainbow Bridge

I learned that the Maid of the Mist, with passengers wearing blue ponchos, departs from the American side, while Hornblower Cruises, with red ponchos, departs from the Canadian side. Both go boldly into the middle of the churning water in the semi-circle of Horseshoe Falls.

View of the Canadian side & Hornblower Cruises from the Observation Tower

I learned the view of Horseshoe Falls from Terrapin Point on Goat Island is disappointing.

view of Horseshoe Falls from Terrapin Point

I learned that I could feel the immense power of the Niagara River from above American Falls.

View above American Falls from Prospect Point

View of the Niagara River before it plummets over American Falls

I learned that standing on the Hurricane Deck at Cave of the Winds beneath Bridal Veil Falls is like standing in the midst of a typhoon.

Cave of the Winds beneath Bridal Veil Falls

Cave of the Winds beneath Bridal Veil Falls

Looking down on the Hurricane Deck at Cave of the Winds

I learned that the Niagara River flows from south to north, which seems counter-intuitive.

Map of Niagara Falls State Park

I learned that four of the five Great Lakes (Superior, Michigan, Huron, and Erie) drain into Lake Ontario via the Niagara River and Niagara Falls. These five Great Lakes make up almost one-fifth of the world’s fresh water supply.

I learned that 750,000 gallons of water per second hurtle over the Falls.

I learned that erosion and rockfalls moved the brink of Niagara Falls upstream up to six feet each year in its early days, but modern influences, such as diverting the water into power generators at night, have caused the Falls to wear away less quickly.

I learned that there have been many attempted and successful suicides at the Falls. In addition, some adventurous people have done daring stunts, such as tightrope walking or going over in barrels, in hopes of making a hefty profit.

I learned that Niagara Falls State Park is the oldest state park in the country, having opened in July 1885.

I learned that the American side of the Falls is more of a natural environment, while the Canadian side has more glitz and commercialism.

Niagara River going toward American Falls

Nature in Niagara Falls State Park

Niagara River heading to Bridal Veil Falls

View of American Falls from Luna Island

I learned that the strange name of “Goat Island” came from its first owner, John Stedman, who raised a herd of goats on the island. All but one goat died during a cold winter around 1780.

I learned that in 1879, people couldn’t see the Falls because the views were fenced off, or blocked by “Indian bazaars,” hotels and other tawdry attractions. A person could see the Falls only by paying a fee to see it through a small peephole. The best observation points were “appropriated for private profit, and the shores swarmed with sharpers, hucksters, and peddlers who perpetually” harassed all visitors.

The Great Niagara Spectacle

I learned that during the Industrial Revolution, industrialists harnessed the force of the water using water wheels to drive their mills and factories. The whole Falls area at that time was an unsightly series of belching smokestacks.

I learned that a statue of Serbian-American inventor and engineer, Nikola Tesla, on Goat Island was a gift from the Yugoslavian government.

Statue of Nikola Tesla on Goat Island

I learned that the Niagara generating stations supply one quarter of all power used in New York State and Ontario; power grids stretch out all across the area.

I learned that the Power Arch of Adams Power Plant, the world’s first commercial hydroelectric power plant, serves now as a memorial to Niagara’s industrial heritage.

Power Arch of Adams Power Plant

I learned that Native Americans, such as Chief Clinton Rickard — Ro-Wa-Da-Gah-Ra-Deh, Loud Voice, founder of the Indian Defense League of America — played a part in Niagara Falls history.

Statue of Chief Clinton Rickard

I learned that at Whirlpool State Park, class VI white water surges down the gorge into a massive whirlpool, considered perhaps the most dangerous stretch of the river.

Whirlpool State Park

I learned that the area caters to middle class tourists and has its fair share of drive-up motels.

Moonlite Motel – where I stayed 🙂

Caravan Motel

I learned that Niagara Falls is not considered a National Park, so I couldn’t get a sticker and cancellation stamp. 😦

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“PROSE” INVITATION: I invite you to write a 1,000-1,500-word post on your own blog about a recently visited particular destination (not journeys in general). Concentrate on any intention you set for your prose.

In this case, my intention was to write a “things I learned each day” list.

While I’m in Spain walking the Camino de Santiago from August 31 – October 25, and then in Portugal from October 26 – November 6, I kindly request that if you write a prose piece, please simply link it to the appropriate post, this one or my next one as soon as it publishes. I will try my best to read your posts while I’m on my journey, but I won’t have a computer or the time or ability to add links to my posts.

My next scheduled prose post will be on Tuesday, October 23.

This will be an ongoing invitation. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired! See below in the comments for any links. 🙂

Thanks to all of you who wrote prosaic posts following intentions you set for yourself. 🙂

the lomaki trail at wupatki national monument

wanderessence1025 October 7, 2018

Quite by accident, we discovered three National Monuments right around Flagstaff, Arizona: Wupatki, Sunset Crater Volcano, and Walnut Canyon. None of these places were on our itinerary, so they were a pleasant surprise. Each one was rather small as well, so we were able to do all three after we left Tuba City and Coal Mine Canyon. This would be our last day together; Mike had to fly out via Phoenix the next day, and the rest of the trip, I would be on my own.

We drove south down Rt. 89 through the Painted Desert, imbued with cinnamon, buff and chestnut, and dotted with feathery sagebrush. Big electrical grids and wires criss-crossed the fairly flat landscape and the abandoned Wauneta Trading Post hunkered down beside the road, faded and decrepit.

At Wupatki National Monument, we stopped first to do the Lomaki Trail. On foot, we approached the Box Canyon Ruins, typical of many pueblos found in this region. Early inhabitants constructed walls of nearby sandstone and limestone, and used local soils to cement stones together. The flat roofs were built of timbers laid side by side, covered with smaller branches and finally plastered over with mud.

Smoke was vented from rooms through a square hole in the ceiling which frequently served as the only access to the room. Doorways were small and windows almost non-existent. As the rooms were abandoned, the timbers were often scavenged and used in other pueblos or burned as firewood, a precious commodity in this environment.

Box Canyon Ruins

On Antelope Prairie, depending on the season, wind can knock a person flat. Lightning and storm clouds create a dance of shadow and light. Heat waves distort the horizon. In this landscape, a large community farmed during the 1100s, its focal point Citadel Pueblo just to the south. Later, Navajo families grazed sheep here, followed by cattle ranchers.

Eight hundred years ago, a savannah-like grassland covered much of this high desert with abundant grasses. The residents would have collected and burned much of the nearby fuel, necessitating long walks to adjacent areas to gather wood. Sparse annual rainfall forced the inhabitants to catch and save as much water as they could, or walk miles to other sources.

Since the use of the area by modern ranchers, the land has undergone other dramatic changes. Cattle grazing stripped much of the native vegetation away, allowing other plants, such as rabbitbrush, saltbush and snakeweed to dominate the vegetation. Although Wupatki National Monument was established in 1924, grazing continued until 1989, when a fence was built around the monument boundary.

Antelope Prairie

The ruins appear today just as they did when discovered in the late 1800s. The National Park Service has stabilized the walls to help preserve them. None are reconstructed. These 800-year-old walls are fragile and easily disturbed.

Box Canyon Ruins

Volcanic activity to the south, from Sunset Crater Volcano, produced giant fissures or earthcracks throughout the Wupatki area in the Kaibab Limestone. The Sinagua and Anasazi Indians who inhabited these ancient pueblos probably found the earthcracks to be the most productive farming sites. There is no evidence of streams close by which could provide water. All farming was dependent on rainfall.

Corn, squash and other crops were planted along the canyon slopes and wash bottoms. Small check dams along the drainage courses provided level areas for farming. These flat areas retained more moisture and the accumulated silt enriched the soil. The bottom of Box Canyon, below the ruins, may have been an ideal area for farming.

Box Canyon Ruins

Juniper, amaranth, yucca, Indian rice grass and other native plants were used as food, along with antelope, rabbit, squirrels, packrats and reptiles, to name a few.

Box Canyon Ruins

Box Canyon Ruins

Box Canyon Ruins

Box Canyon Ruins

Box Canyon Ruins

The Lomaki Ruin sits at the far end of the path. Lomaki means The Beautiful House.

At Lomaki Ruin, an open area in the pueblo near the rim of the earthcrack is known as the plaza. In pueblos, the plaza was the center of daily activities including grinding corn, making pottery, working obsidian into arrowheads, processing other plants for food, and cooking. It would have also been used for meetings, conducting trade, and as a controlled play area for children. During the warmer months, the plaza was used extensively from dawn to dusk. Rooms inside the pueblo were used only for sleeping and some cooking.

Lomaki Ruin

To the east of this area, Sunset Crater Volcano would have been belching black smoke and cinders when the Sinagua and Anasazi lived here. The thick layer of cinders over the sandy soil helped hold moisture, which was beneficial to the growing of crops. Eventually, even Sunset Crate Volcano grew quiet, and the winds blew the cinders away and dried out the soil.

Why the Lomaki residents departed is not certain. There are indications of disease affecting the population, or a lengthy drought creating a landscape barren of vegetation, animals and firewood. Or invading host tribes may have contributed to the abandonment of this area by the mid-1200s.

Lomaki Ruin

Lomaki Ruin

At the bottom of the earthcrack is a prehistoric check dam that captured the frequent run-off. The pueblo’s inhabitants placed pottery jars at the base of overhangs to catch rainwater. When the rain didn’t come, they had to walk 10 miles to the Little Colorado River drainage to fill their pottery jars.

Lomaki Ruin

Lomaki Ruin

By 1180, thousands of people were farming on the Wupatki landscape. By 1250, when the volcano had quieted, pueblos stood empty. The people of Wupatki had moved on. Many people crossed the high deserts of the Colorado Plateau over time, but few stayed long. Those who did adapted to the region’s challenging environment. Their descendants still live nearby, including Hopi, Zuni and Navajo people.

Lomaki Ruin

This walk was only 1.11 miles.We continued on to the Visitor’s Center and Wupatki Pueblo, where a sticker and stamp were awaiting me. 🙂

*Sunday, May 13, 2018*

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This post is in response to Jo’s Monday Walk.

poetic journeys: great sand dunes

wanderessence1025 October 5, 2018

Great Sand Dunes

Touched by your heartsong, I am like
the wayward dunes we found that afternoon near Crestone
that the winds had lifted and somehow
lavished between the mountains and the grasslands.

And you might guess by this, I mean I’m ambivalent,
yet mesmerized, and sometimes resigned. Truth is, I don’t
understand exactly what we’ve become, any more
than sand particles in the drifts understand they are part of
capricious dunes, sketched with gossamer swirls and footprints.

Maybe we’re all that’s left of what we were.
But, walking with you, I want to believe you are a visionary
spirit calling forth lush growth around their parched ripples.

What would you call that feeling when the ridged dunes,
even with their desolate silhouettes, start to dazzle?

Great Sand Dunes National Park, Colorado | between the grasslands & the Sangre de Cristo Mountains

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“POETRY” Invitation: I invite you to write a poem of any poetic form on your own blog about a particular travel destination. Or you can write about travel in general. Concentrate on any intention you set for your poetry. In this case, I intended to write an abstract poem about any aspect of my May trip to the Four Corners area.

In this case, my intended abstract poem actually became about something. It reflects my experience of the Great Sand Dunes, but I won’t elaborate on the actual experience.

An abstract poem is meant to be an experiment with sound; the meaning of the words is secondary. There are several ways to write abstract poems, according to the The Teachers & Writers Handbook of Poetic Forms:

One is to say a word aloud over and over until it loses its meaning. Your mind quickly focuses on the sound. Then you write as quickly as possible whatever words come to you because of their sounds.
Take a poem by you or someone else and change most of the words. Count the number of nouns in the poem, the number of adjectives and the number of verbs. Make a list of an equal number of new nouns, adjectives, and verbs – all of which you choose because you like their sound rather than their meaning. Then use your lists to replace the corresponding words in the poem.
Take a poem and remove enough of its words so that the remaining words make no sense but sound good together.

In the case of my poem, I used the #2 method, but as I started to play with it, it became about something, so I dropped my intention to write the abstract poem and let the poem go where it would.

You can either set your own poetic intentions, or use one of the prompts I’ve listed on this page: writing prompts: poetry. (This page is a work in process). You can also include photos, of course.

While I’m in Spain walking the Camino de Santiago from August 31 – October 25, and then in Portugal from October 26 – November 6, I kindly request that if you write a poetic piece, please simply link it to the appropriate post, this one or my next one as soon as it publishes. I will try my best to read your posts while I’m on my journey, but I won’t have a computer or the time or ability to add links to my posts.

My next post will be on Friday, November 2. This will be an ongoing invitation, on the first Friday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired! See below in the comments for any links.

Thanks to all of you who wrote about the call to place. 🙂

valley of the gods, utah

wanderessence1025 October 4, 2018

On our way to Monument Valley, we took a 17-mile gravel and clay surface road through Valley of the Gods, administered by the Bureau of Land Management. Because it’s not a National Park, there would be no sticker or stamp for me!

Seven Sailors

The beautiful Cedar Mesa sandstone monoliths, pinnacles and other geological features of this enchanting area are known as a Miniature Monument Valley. These sandstone sentinels were eroded by wind and water over eons of time, dating from some 250 million years ago.

A number of the monoliths here have been given local names.

Setting Hen Butte

The 1,200 foot thick sandstone was cemented by calcium carbonate interspersed with lenses of red siltstone and was deposited in huge sand dunes near the shores of an ancient sea. Erosion by water, wind and ice over millions of years chiseled rock formations into the unique shapes seen today.

Setting Hen Butte

The Navajo interpret the rock formations as follows (according to Sacred Land, Sacred View by Dr. Robert S. McPherson):

Rock formations are places of power in which spirits reside, and the formations in Valley of the Gods are some of the most distinctive. These imposing monoliths are Navajo warriors frozen in stone, who can be appealed to for protection. They are guardians whose power and strength aid young servicemen going to war.

Battleship Rock

Though you can’t tell it in my photos, a vehement wind was blowing dust everywhere as we drove through this arid landscape.

Rooster Butte

Battleship Rock

Rooster Butte

Castle Butte

Road through Valley of the Gods

Road through Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods

Balanced Rock / Lady in a Tub

Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods

Valley of the Gods near the West Entrance

Valley of the Gods near the West Entrance

*Saturday, May 12, 2018*

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You probably have your own ideas about this, but in case you’d like some ideas, you can visit my page: photography inspiration.

I challenge you to post no more than 20 photos (fewer is better) and to write less than 350-400 words about any travel-related photography intention you set for yourself.

My next scheduled photography post will be on October 18, 2018.

This will be an ongoing invitation, every first and third Thursday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired! See below in the comments for any links.

Thanks to all of you who wrote photography posts following intentions you set for yourself.

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