Deep in the heart of China there's a vast garden of freshly groomed mountains that sleep on the green Earth like they were giants. A calm, azure river carves its way through them, dotted by the canoes of local fishermen. Sporadic farmers linger through rice terraces, fields of sorghum and stalks of sugar cane, tending to their crops. The boaters and laborers are often seen gathering their goods in the misty purple hazes of sunrises and sunsets, especially from the convenient balconies of cruise ships, such as the one I’m on now.
My stomach is saturated from the all-you-can-eat seafood buffet upstream, near the departure docks of Guilin. From there I’d set off down the Li River through that limestone-lacerated paradise. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen any mountains that are this beautiful, except for the Rockies in Montana. These mountains rise over the fanned-out palms of the river with a moist, green, marble-cast coating that rivals those of the Andes near Maccu Piccu. They flatten out towards the top, like buttes in the American southwest. If I could make my way to the top of one of them, no doubt a vista of overwhelming wonder would flood my mind with seeds of awe.
The mountains extend in all directions for hundreds of miles. They are soiled by rich farmland, hearty rivers, and a semi-polluted atmosphere that enhances the sunlit haze, serving up a variety of colors on both sides of the rainbow.
No comments:
Post a Comment