Things I wish I'd had the camera for

Over the weekend, I had a chance to make a solo overnight trip up Qingcheng Shan, a mountain complex of Taoist temples that's actually not too far from here - a twenty minute ride on the fast train, and a half hour bus after that.  We had gone there as a family about a month after we first arrived at Xihua, and I wanted to go back for a bit of personal closure and meditation time.

What a difference three years makes!  (And a national holiday, traveling solo, language proficiency, and a side of a mountain)  When we first went, we went on National Day, along with 15,000+ other people who had the same idea, and who all seemed to want to take our picture.  At the temple where we overnighted up at the top of the mountain, there was an island of calm and tranquility, but coming up and coming down resembled a ride at Disneyland more than an experience of nature for most of the trip.  Having paparazzi swarms of photographers clumping around our sore-footed kids every time we took a rest break didn't help matters, either.

This time, there were still overzealous photographers, but only around fifteen or so, and I was able to sail past with a polite "no thank you", and continue on up the mountain.  This time, I went up the back of the mountain, which had only one temple at the top, and had much fewer crowds.  I had a hat, a small shoulder bag, and a journal and sketchbook, but no camera.  The camera, I left at home on purpose to stay more focused on the moment, but the photo junkie in me was saddened several times as I hiked past several great photos, just waiting for a device to record them.  I did have a pen, so following, for your (imaginary) viewing pleasure, copied straight from my notebook, a list of the snapshots I (kinda sorta) wish I'd taken.

•  Pathways and stairways and walkways twisting through narrow river gorges in every configuration imaginable.  Snaking through caves, over waterfalls, under caves formed by massive house sized boulders of chunky conglomerate.  In the rock, fist-sized cobbles, covered in green moss.
• Stone sculptures on bridge posts, worn and funky-looking.  All of the Chinese Zodiac animals, minus a cow, I think.  Also a chunky frog or two, an elephant, some peaches that looked more like naked butts, and even a cat or two.  All mossy and worn, looking like they'd each been carved by a different sculptor, or found in a secondhand store somewhere.
• Designs drawn into the concrete steps.  Geometric patterns, mostly, but with Chinese characters here and there, drawings of animals, or once, a row of six handprints and the names of the builders underneath.  Some very recent, some cracked down the middle from the earthquake four years ago.
• Earthquake-damaged buildings near the summit, and piles of rubble around.  Porters carrying building supplies in baskets on their backs for the three hour hike up the mountain -  the only way to bring any material to the top.
• Several wild lily plants, all near waterfalls.  White trumpet shaped flowers lined with reddish purple.
• Tiny little black-headed birds, with white flashed wing feathers.  Flitting up and down along rock worn smooth by the rushing water.
• The reddish towers of the gondola car rising up level with a path built out alont the edge of a cliff, even with the tops of the trees.
• The grotto leading up to BaiYun (White Cloud) temple, towards the top of the mountain.  Stairs winding up about two stories through a narrow cave-like gap in the cliff, walls lined with hundreds of Buddha figures sitting in carved stone niches.
• BaiYun temple itself, which was a smallish pavilion after the grotto atop at the end of a long straight stairway.  Skinny young monks who I could talk to this time around. A statue of Guanyin, the goddess of compassion with her thousand arms, an eye in the center of each of her hands.