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Showing posts from June, 2020

A Poet's Journal: February 13th, 2015

  February 13th, 2015 Aiako Harria yesterday, first time this year; overtaken by the beauty.  It is at about this time along the hillsides and in the thickets that the brown of the end of winter starts mixing with the green of the beginning of spring. But an outing like this, though refreshing, can do nothing for the interior state of mind when one is tired and helpless; it only offers a slight reprieve, but we are back again, missing it: the sights, the sounds, the smell of the forest--somehow it only adds to the misfortune.  It is difficult to wander along the thin trails because we have built up a reason and an inspiration for our coming; there is a goal, a new plant to find; something to be attained, a new path to take.  All the expectation dies with each step, and yet it is still beautiful, still appealing, still the key to some secret meaning we have created for ourselves; and when we stop and look at it all, we realize we are merely the sum of our attainments, the sum that keeps

Nepalese Notebook: September 23rd, 2014

September 23rd, 2014 Chyamche 1450m. First view of the Annapurna range this morning.  Passing through Tililje (2300m.) earlier, we found a man at the mill grinding his roasted barley and parched corn mix.  He was quite surprised that I offered to buy some, the ground roasted barley being known as Tsampa, considered a staple ingredient to many of those living in the mountainous regions and outlying areas, oftentimes being mixed with parched corn. The intermediaries who dealt with the affair seemed rather tentative to approach the man because the grain was more essential to his family's needs than the money that was eventually paid for it.  Nevertheless I found myself with a rather large plastic bag full of the mix, which had the most fragrant and pleasing odor.  It was perhaps this mix of Tsampa and parched corn that made me feel closer to anything Nepalese or Himalayan during the whole extent of our trip, but many would be befuddled by how bland and unattractive the taste actually

Nepalese Notebook: September 22nd, 2014

September 22nd, 2014 Goa Valley 2515m. Beautiful morning in Bhimtang; the Dudh Khola begins its descent here as a clear and shallow stream with a bed of white glacial sand, almost surreal.  There are three or four glaciers to the north, the Salpudanda being the one which we came down along side of yesterday; above these sits the Himlung (7126m.)  To the east is the Manaslu (8163m.) but hidden, and to the south is the majestic Phungi Himal (6538m.)  We left Bhimtang reluctantly, looking up to the left and right, but mostly looking back, not because of any special feeling we had experienced, but because the highest part of the Himalayas was now behind us, physically and mentally.  Everything was downhill, the eternal snows would become less conspicuous, the landscape less alpine, and the feeling that links one to something unique in his experience merely a vague and undetermined memory.  No one really believes anything that can be said about such places anyway; perhaps in reality for the