The painting in the mountains

“First I saw the mountains in the painting. Then I saw the painting in the mountains.”

I saw this Chinese proverb written on a wall when I was in Singapore last summer, and it crossed my mind again when I was standing on the top of Mt. Beacon in South Korea.

There are certain sights you dream about first. And then, with a little luck, you make them happen.

It was a late afternoon in Busan, with typically mild spring temperatures and a gentle ocean breeze. After a relatively short but steep hike, I waited for an hour to see the sunlight soften.

And what a treat it was. As the sun started its descend to the horizon, the leaves of the trees turned golden, and shadows danced to the sound of silence. There was no thought of yesterday or tomorrow – just a soothing flow of fleeting moments.

All that is left now is a series of paintings, imprinted in my memory.