Green and white and blue and brown, the colours of the earth converge in the unlikely meeting of water, vegetation, and sky.
Shrubbery obscured in the errant flow of rushing water, trees growing straight out of the clear green pools, rootedness and freedom bound together. No sign of ones beginning and the others ending. And through it all man’s thin ribbon of bamboo threaded through this quarry of beginnings and endings.
Is it here that the sacred comes to dwell, in the ribbon, in the confluence? In the water and the leaves, the rushing and the stillness?