Rain soaks my hut then the sun shines
weather can change in the blink of an eye
but not as fast as the breath of existence
at dusk it’s hard to hear the morning bell
translated by Red Pine in The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse
I was up early enough to see the sun come up behind the mountains across the Dillon Reservoir. The spiky peaks on the other side of the valley glowed in the morning light. A bit later I saw a fox, running toward the river. All these moments of grace are what brings me back to the mountains again and again. But today is about coming down from the mountains. Red Pine noted in Road to Heaven, his book on China’s mountain hermits that unlike Taoist hermits, Ch’an (Zen) hermits always came down from the mountains, to share with the world their insights.
I rode back on the bike path to Silverthorne and mailed off all my camping gear. My bicycle a lot lighter and the paths easy going, it was a joy to ride around the reservoir to Frisco. This valley with its peaks on all sides and the huge reservoir and wetlands really is a magical place. The highways, continuously traffic, strip malls, somehow underscore all that. I found a bicycle shop that could box my bike and I could retrieve it in the morning before my shuttle and left it with them. Now I am here in Frisco with only a shoulder bag with my personal effects. I walked around a bit but not that inclined toward shopping I soon made my way to my hotel and spent the rest of the day relaxing.
look deep into
in the afternoon
the sun returns