The Heart of Taiwan (Puli)

2015-03-20 17.03.58 2015-03-20 18.19.402015-03-21 05.54.15 2015-03-21 06.26.59 2015-03-21 06.57.57 2015-03-21 07.31.07 2015-03-21 07.49.28 2015-03-21 07.58.59 2015-03-21 07.59.46 2015-03-21 08.47.26 2015-03-21 12.48.26

Closer to the equator, the winter is over too soon and the sun rises too soon. Here through the haze you couldn’t see the sun except in brief moments. There was a moment on Saturday afternoon when I planned to go down to the tents and grab my camera to capture the sun between the rocks that I saw stacked into a tower. But soon it had disappeared behind the gray. The next morning after a day of challenges, contests, games and teamwork, I walked up while the sky was turning lighter and circled around the fire, and all around the campsite. The fire hadn’t really stopped burning; smoke kept escaping and there was a faint orange under the remnants of the wood. I looked up at the mountains and remembered something a French guy told me a while ago, that “you don’t know a place until you’ve stepped in something from looking up at the sky all the time.” I looked up at the mountains for a while and then went down to where some water was funneled down between two slopes. A bridge overlooked the path. Hundreds of tadpoles communed in a gentle pool of water. I hopped up and found another small stack of rocks. I took off my shoes and stepped in the water, hopping from stone to stone, and burying my feet in the sand below before picking my foot up and washing it off. I looked up at the roof of leaves the tall thin trees provided. Eventually I ascended, and you could look directly at the sun through the mist.

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