Saturday, February 19, 2011

Tibet dreams




Hiking in Tibetan heartland.

africasiaeuro

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Junshandao

Junshandao

Green are the lawns, overhanging shadows of a 1000 years gone by – the Island covered in thick, impenetrable fog, so deep, almost mystical – hiding the deep secrets of the lost souls of the two empresses.
Perhaps one should leave them to rest. Venturing out on the Island is not for the faint hearted. Except a few villagers gathering around their usual Temple place, engulfed deeply into their daily Da-Mahjong games, no other soul in sight.

Bamboo forest of lost souls

Bamboo thicket

Almost an eerie feeling overcomes me ; in solitude I wander down the path in the sunken jungle of thick, dense Bamboo forest, no sound but the cracking of undergrowth, and branches above the rain saturated soil. At an instance I pause, was there not a faint sound, almost a whisper I hear ?
I stand in silence, listening to the distant whispers. Spoken in an unfamiliar Mandarin, I cannot make out. I am in the middle of the Bamboo thicket that stretches from one side of the island to the other.
The rain is drizzling down on me, leaves scratching, as  I move towards the sounds, slowly, trying to avoid to create any noise.

Bamboo thicket in forest of lost souls
Bamboo thicket 2

Meanwhile realizing that I have lost track of all directions, with all lush green around me. Flashes of memories from a time gone by come to my mind, sedans and people, dressed in ancient attire, with guards marking in front an back. Tiny, yet immaculate, faces of the past, could they be Ehuang and Nvying ?
Suddenly, as it came, the whispers have stopped. Shivering, the cold, wet surrounding, some miles away from all human dwellings, stumbling across the thicket, lost in thoughts – lost in time.
For a second – a faint shimmer of light filtering through the foliage. No trail, no footpath, still hearing the faint sounds, far away in the hills that surround the Bamboo, junshandao the Island of the lost souls.

Bamboo forest of lost souls
Bamboo forest of lost souls

Unaware - my premonition - returning to the spot where Emperors landed thousands of years ago, Dongtinghu, its waters come into vision, its shores stretching 100 s of square miles, far away the Imperial Fleet guarding the oncoming vessel carrying Emperor Shun and his entourage. Faint the silhouettes of Ehuang and Nvying, in vain attempt to make out their husbands, who were left on the island. Almost visible sadness, heartache overcoming the imperial concubines, giving in to fate.


Lake on island of lost souls
lake on Island of lost souls


Dongtinghu, tales of the lost souls














Aheneghana photoshelter

Monday, February 14, 2011

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Friday, February 11, 2011

Strawberries, China

Succulence per se



taking cover in bamboo forest of lost souls





Originally uploaded by Africasiaeuro
Bamboo forest of lost souls .. History has it two Empresses Ehuang and Nvying, wives of Emperor Shun, both from the island, were taken from their husbands. After the death of the Emperor, they returned to the Island to search for their husbands.
When they heard that both their husbands had died, they were both so grieved they themselves committed suicide by drowning themselves in the water surrounding the forest.
Wandering through the bamboo forest on a cold and rainy day in December, fog covering the hills and stretching deep in the forest. The fog so dense one can not see more than a few yards.
Here the place was solitude, tranquil, without any sound, rain drenched bamboo leaves touching, I tried not to disturb the peace of the two Empresses, who are buried here. Here the time has stood still and the forest will hide its secrets forever.
One freezes at any slight sound; densely populated foliage, your thoughts wander back a thousand years trying to unravel the drama that played here in times gone by.
Bamboo Forest of lost souls

Friday, February 4, 2011

The Gift of giving II


There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.

And then there are those who have very little and give it all. These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.

There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.

And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.

And there are those who give and I know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue; They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.

Through the hands of such as these Gods speaks, and from behind their eyes he smiles upon the earth.

Die Reise                                                                                                                             

Giving (I) Khalil

Giving
You give very little when you give of your possessions.
It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear
you may need them tomorrow?
And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the over prudent dog burying bones in
the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?
And what is fear of need but need itself?
Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable ?


Wednesday, February 2, 2011