Yellow autumn vineyards blaze below, Green winter oaks above
green winter oaks grace hillsides in Napa,
and yellow autumn vineyards blaze below,
on the road to Harbin.
it's late autumn, warm,
and sun is winking through clouds.
orange flares from that orchard,
red sea tops those vineyards, -
this world splashes with color here,
and there, and all around, -
they are startling.
over the hill I come into Lake County,
where more muted are the colors,
woodsy, fall and natural,
a little winter-season grey overhead.
harbin, next, arrives ... I head far in ...
to the village path, -
it's like hiking again, on it,
and this way is often a little trippy -
I like, but 'tis curious ...
why this subtle psychotropism?
at the redwood sleeping deck,
there's lovely, free-person D-A
walking up toward
Tea House,
high on the hill.
We smile,
"I'm going hiking, " she says.
then to the pools,
full, again, in off season, mid-week,
yet taoistily & toastily self-regulating ...
soaking, soaking, soaking,
deeply
among the people, -
smiling, ... little bliss qualities emerge ...
out of the pools,
into the shower,
walking down beyond
the swimming pool,
then back to sauna,
where it's warm.
who is that lovely woman,
with healthy feet, in the sauna,
with just a bikini bottom on?
She is slight, mid-length brown hair, ...
beautiful breasts,
yes ...
then out, dressed, and back along the path,
stopping on the redwood, sleeping deck
now at eventime,
with the lights, here, again,
of Harbin, which are so
spread-speckle beautiful, -
soft, warm, light illuminations,
everywhere,
curious fireflies, of sizes' diverse,
and on, steadily,
not flickering, ~
singing their soft and welcome oms.
lights at night, Harbin,
a dream of beauty in the woods,
in this valley,
around pools of warm water,
in which people soak, naked and free,
cuddling their energies together,
in quiet joy, with intimacy.
I head on ...
walking back to my far-in vehicle,
move it to a more central, parking place,
across from the middle parking lot, ...
to play music,
on my bagpipe practice chanter,
on my car's tailgate, -
eve is still almost warm,
in late November,
yet pull on my Canyon-kid-knit hat,
in browns and oranges,
to keep my wet head company,
and warm.
then up to a film,
'The Yes Men Fix the World' -
with conscience, conscientious objection,
against corporate wrongdoings, -
yes, clever satire and hi-jinx with a good vibe,
and now so tired, to bed.
in the morn,
after the pools,
I linger again
on the redwood sleeping deck,
and see the Harbin village,
the 'real' one of Mainside,
here below, with trees in blazing colors,
orange, reds, browns, greens & yellows,
from pool area,
over red rooves,
to all the other buildings & structures, and,
way below,
beneath yet other dwellings,
the Temple's copper-green pinnacle,
3 cones up, with spiny, spiky,
dark-golden, metal, sun orb, radiating atop,
and, just beyond, the gorgeous
elliptical arc of the
valley's entry,
a half moon,
tree-rimmed,
crescent shape,
opening upwards,
to hold the beyond-valley skies,
of light in shades of autumn-grey.
o, this watery village,
of journeying beings together,
sings to me from the pools,
in blazing, fall, falling colors.
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