TAIWAN: XVII

Peace.

Alone.

Nobody.

Solitude among the whistling grass, the lumbering driftwood reminders of past ecological triumph and the clambering grains of sand. Evolution, eons, millions of years...to make this river. To detract from the forged mass of bedrock particulates that now endeavour to speckle our faces with pocks of pain. Wind. We are not alone. We are with the sand. We are with the wind. The sun...we are with the sun. It is with us. I keep some of it with me for days to come as I shed, through wistful petulance of ultraviolet anger, skin that no longer needs my established home. The sun distances my skin and my pigment from biology. My biology, at least.

We walk, alone, only each other. But there is always the sun. There is always the sand. There is always the wind. It is always there and for it I am in debt of memory and painful angst to return when the moment strikes me.

But we are still in the river. We are still in the midst of a heat with such immensity that words cannot encapsulate the pain of only moments of it. But moments we had, in the heat - to hot to walk - roaming through the dried floodplain of the Mugua (Papaya) River. Just a day to lumber around and witness, and be...

And be reminded of the relinquished attachment to water that evades us. For now. Soothing remedy came. As you will see.

Only in time of need do you realize that which you need.

And we needed water.

The evening sun, bidding us goodbye from Taitung.

A non-fearing atheist is fine in such situations!

Crystal takes a break among the boulders and erratic memories of geology past.

After a barefoot crossing of the river I stop to regain protection of my feet from cobble and heat. Unbearable, our companion of heat this day.

The thirst quencher. Out of the river, on to the road, towards a betel nut stand, two drinks and a moment by the rice. Bidding farewell the thirst but not the sun.

The Bus Station. A bus station. Despite the look of it, it was an easy place to manage with our chinese abilities and a bit of luck from random helpful people.

A reflective pause in the midst of a parched floodplain. Incalculable cliffs rise in the distance etched away as the river flows through time and through soil in its presence. Geology is so goddamn interesting - a story in every rock, a history in every crevice, a perplexing tale in every mountaintop and river bottom. Evolution is the tale, biology and geology the storytellers.

Running was more bearable while jumping. The landing incited rueful heat and momentary shock. I am not sure why I had not my shoes.

Resting where Crystal once did (above).

Back in the city of Taitung. A side road, typifying Taiwan

Crystal bargaining for some fruit as I lounge in the crowd and ponder why a wax apple satiates one so perfectly.

This was, then, a brief look at a trip we took to Taitung and went the opposite way of the crowd to an oft forgotten part of the area. The heat, immeasurable. The joy, the memories, and the man with the beer...a concoction of memories unshakable steadfast in my, our, minds. Taitung rarely let us down.