Ja Min Yie

Last summer, I had been in Korea, visiting some temples in the southern regions. A common feature of these temples is that getting there often requires a gentle trek, and the sounds that accompany the walk are often of water—the trickling of water pooling in a stone cavern, the pitter patter of a steady sweet drizzle, or most memorably for me, the bubbling of a rippling stream, both wild and tame at the same time. 

I was pleasantly surprised to find this piece of home in Paonia’s River Park. During the early spring days of March, the river’s water level was low enough that currents were mild and underlying stone formations were visible. The river sang songs that were humble, balanced and unimposing, nourishing the ear and tuning the mind to harmonious, effortless rhythms. Almost always without fail, I would return from the park energized and uplifted by the sound of water.