How could an empty village feel so jubilant? Trails of hickory smoke hover at nose-level, waiting to be followed. Doorless bamboo huts suggest a cozy bustle of neighbors … yet you see no one here. Prayer flags, faded but cheery, lap against the awnings of houses, interlocking and stacked high like layers of honeycombs. They thread through alleyways and alongside ragged staircases, still legible as dots of confetti when greeting you from the distant town’s peak.
music source: excerpted from an improvised live set for the “Awakening” show (verse 5). 9 April 2023.
Like this mood!