The Leaves They Are A Changin'

here in Korea... they start up in the mountains of the northern provinces and work their way to Seoul and then further down south. Whether by design or not I don't know but a majority of trees in Seoul are Ginko trees (known as eunhaeng namu here) and they will turn a beautiful bright yellow in the weeks to come. The streets and sidewalks will be carpeted in yellow satin and old men and women will defy the cops and use rakes to knock down the small ginko fruit from the trees and roast them over charcoal for a late autumn snack.

Out in the country side the rice paddies are already turning a vivid toasty and warm yellow that is a pleasure to gaze upon. Up in the mountains and hills it will be the bright red and oranges of oaks and maples and the stands of swooshy double-colored leaves of the white barked aspens that remind me of Colorado.

Hopefully the leaves will change colors in Washintgon in a few weeks too.

Hmm... it looks like my last post here was sometime in May. Not sure if that means nothing has happened of interest to me since then or I ran out of things to say. Doubt either is true. It's partly due to traveling. Went to the States... San Francisco for the 4th or July with good friend Derek and my sister, Denver for Portuguese food with Molly, and Birmingham for quality time with mom, sister and old friends. Then off to an English camp for a few weeks. Then back to Seoul and my girlfriend Young Hee (who had just gotten back Greece where she was an assistant on a documentary which almost didn't air because the host, a former Miss Korea got busted for fooling around with a married man) and then spent almost ever minute of every day with her since.

Last week brought Chuseok, a sort of Korean Thanksgiving, and a nice little 11 day vacation for me. That called for a final official kayaking trip for our club up in the Taebaek Mtn. range. But that never quite got off the ground due to a little side excursion.

A few years ago I was heading to the river on a country bus, riding by myself when a long-haired Vietnam veteran looking guy named Song spoke to me at a rest stop on the highway. In our brief chat he told me a little bit about how he came to live in an old cabin up in the mountains (in a national park). He drew me a map and invited me to come any old time, as long as didn't mind hiking a while and sleeping in a traditional Korean house with no electricity and bathing in cold water. Months later, after a failed attempt to find his place on a cold rainy November day (with the afore-mentioned San Fran Derek, my French violin maker friend Marc, and long-time Candian friend in Korea Simon) I promised myself I wouldn't leave Korea until I found Song and his cabin.

After telling the story to my Korean kayaking buddies Annie and Gi Sun, they agreed with me that we should blow off kayaking for the day and try to track down Song's house again. And thus began part two of the search for Song. TBC