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Showing posts from December, 2019

A Poet's Journal: March 4th, 2015

  March 4th, 2015 There was a swoop in the air and, thinking it the wind, noticed a flock of song-birds passing over.  It is strange to wonder then, how many times we may say something with one intention in mind, but provide suitable ground for other unconscious actions.  When the birds pass, they do not think they are the wind, nor even birds. Douglas Thornton

Nepalese Notebook: September 10th, 2014

September 10th, 2014 Arughat Bazar 608m 3 hours of muddy road in a pick-up have brought us to our starting point on the banks of the Budhi Gandanki.  We passed buses stuck in ruts the length of a man's leg and watched as the drivers tried to dig their way out, some rocking the bus from one side to the other, others pointing down to the hole and calling out orders, while all the passengers stood alongside, jumping on the moment the bus seemed to free itself, but then hopping back off once they saw it was going nowhere.  Only once or twice did these buses actually block our passage, the rest of the time we drove right by on the edges of the mountain track. Arughat is the most isolated town I have been to, but it has not the sort of magic and mystery one would expect from such a place.  The street that leads into and out of town, as if it were made from just misplaced rocks, is lined with mountain gear shops, ration stores, and tea-houses; there are no visible Buddhist temp