Dragon Lane

Pathways

At the present moment when travel is restricted, how wonderful that the mind can continue to meander through past pathways spread far and wide.

Let's wander in the forest. The wifi is weak 

but you'll make a better connection. - Anonymous

Thus far, days had been ordinary in this forbidden kingdom in the Himalayas.

You know.

We had butter tea sprinkled on top with crispy rice.

I spun a prayer wheel in the Cheri Monastery.

And listened to lessons on Buddhism.

Nothing really unusual.

Until.

Until our Bhutanese guide announced what was on the schedule that particular day. 

Dragon.Lane.Hike.

My kind of a double whammy adventure. Of course, count me in. (LOL) Nothing like an encounter with fire-spitting creatures with giant teeth. I was eager to channel my inner Hiccup. Remember him in How To Train Your Dragon? 

Let’s go tame a Night Fury Dragon, toothless or otherwise!

The sky that morning in Thimpu was the sweetest shade of robin's-egg blue, cloudless and smooth. Rays of a promising sun were creeping over the tops of scattered dzong houses.

As we left the highway and bounced through a wooded area, our guide had a tease in his voice when he commented with a mischievous grin, It will be exciting.

I shrugged and tried to kick a passing lizard.

There was a point, unmarked, that the road turned into a footpath. Conifers and other woody plants rose on either side, their branches varying shades of green and brown.

The further we walked, oak trees that looked as if they’d been planted a hundred years ago grew thicker and denser. They made rustling sounds and whispered, as if they had stories to tell.

We paused at a bend after hiking for about a half-hour. Hanging apologetically along the trail was a stream of lung ta, a colored bunting that was used to bless the surrounding countryside. I peered at the rectangular prayer flags connected along their top edges to a long string hanging on a diagonal line from low to high between a rock and the tops of tree branches.

I noted their colors arranged from left to right in order: blue, white, red, green, and yellow. 

The five elements and the Five Pure Lights, our guide explained.

Blue symbolized the sky and space. White for air and wind. Red was fire. Green, water; and yellow was earth. All balanced for health and harmony.

As we continued to walk up, we saw a clearing and a patch of sky. In a moment the dark trees had thinned, the nameless shrubs had disappeared, and on either side of us was a wall of color.

Blood-red, reaching far above our heads. 

We were among the rhododendrons.

They were stunning. Even bewildering. A mass of crimson faces in incredible profusion, showing no leaf, no twig. Nothing but red, luscious and fantastic. 

I wish this was the part of the story where I’d tell you that we then heard a powerful inhaling and exhaling reverberating from a dragon’s lair. Then, the scuff of a foot with retractable claws, the drag of a tail knocking over a stalagmite with a crash…

I would have loved an ending like that.  

But, no. Hike over.

Ready for some ema dashi? our guide thoughtfully suggested. (This was a Bhutanese chili peppers and cheese national dish, as you may remember from a past blog).

A convoy of gray clouds scurrying across the sky blurred into the landscape. It felt mysterious.

A thing without being anything.

Air and emptiness.

And nothing and everything.

It was shaping up to be just another spectacularly ordinary day.